The Capitol Hunger Games
by Vast-Boundless-Infinite
Summary: Five years since the rebellion won. Snow is dead, Katniss shot him like she was supposed to. Coin rules Panem, freeing the districts and imprisoing the Capitol. What was once supposed to be a one time thing has started the cycle of Hunger Games all over again. Will Katniss be able to face what she's helped create, or will she break as she not only watches, but controls the games?
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey! So this is my first fanfiction ever and I don't if I'm that good or not so I've decided to post my work here. I'd love to hear your feedback on the story and any constructive criticism you have.

This story is pretty much a fourth Hunger Games book branching away from the main characters and continuing from an alternate ending to Mockingjay. While original Hunger Games characters will be present, this story is centered on new tributes, aka Glee characters, from a Capital Hunger Games. Any questions you have probably will be answered by this prologue.

Disclaimer: All Hunger Games and Glee characters in this story belong to their respective owners, not me.

I hope you like my little creation and now... on with the story!

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Prologue

Katniss

It's been five years since the rebellion won. Snow's dead, I shot him through the heart like I was supposed to at his execution. Coin rules Panem as a dictator. She's gotten rid of all the borders between districts and united them. They prosper and live freely. The Capital's become isolated. We cut down its supplies and let Peacekeepers overrun it to make sure the citizens stay in line. It's nothing but a ruin of a once great city, rubble that seems to fall apart with even the lightest of breezes. We've also divided the whole city into twelve separate parts, isolating families from families and friends from friends. Sound familiar? At least when we did that it was out of kindness. Since the remaining victors voted on it, the Capital's children will have their first ever Hunger Games this year. So it was out of generosity that we separated them; so people who knew each other wouldn't be sent into the games together. Now we're having the first ever Hunger Games for Capital children. It's a wicked thing to do, but they need to know how we felt for seventy-five years. They need to know our suffering.

Peeta disagrees with me. He says that the revolution was supposed to be about achieving peace, not seeking revenge. That the only way to rebuild Panem is to stop holding grudges and try to work together. But I don't care what he thinks. Not about this, anyway. I've said it before; I'm not the forgiving type. And if there's anyone who is least deserving of forgiveness, it's the Capital.

We're not going to be official mentors this year, Peeta, Haymitch, and me, but we are allowed to give the tributes limited advice. Since there are no past victors to mentor them, a selected government official will be assigned to each 'District'. Like they'll have anything to contribute. Mentors are supposed to be people who identify with your suffering and know how to help. These officials from District Thirteen won't know how to relate. We're more or less Gamemakers. Since we helped design the arena, the three of us get all of the same privileges they do. Like observing the training sessions and controlling the arena.

The three of us are the only victors having some to-do with the Games. Peeta because he doesn't want to leave me. He thinks I'll break somewhere along the way, he wants to comfort me when it happens. Haymitch because… I guess he has nothing else to do. Annie's made it clear that she wants no part in the Capital games. Enobaria and Johanna say they don't want to help them; they just want to watch them die. And Beetee almost volunteered to help with designing the arena, but decided against it. About the only thing Effie's doing is selecting and reading the names of the tributes at the reaping. The tributes won't be staying in the Capital either. Instead, they'll travel to District Thirteen, freshly rebuilt above the ground, where we have a new chariot parade street, training center, and interview theater built for the games. Those twenty-four kids will only be the first of many from the Capital to be treated like this. Like us.

Everyone has known this was coming for five years, so some of the citizens have tried to prepare their children. But it doesn't really matter, all but one will die.

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A/N: What do you think? I know that this was pretty much a summary of what's gonna go down in the actual story. I hope you enjoyed the prologue and let me know if I should continue.

Please review! Bye!


	2. May The Odds

A/N: This chapter didn't really get changed all that much. Besides me changing a few of the nameless tributes to Glee characters. These characters won't be mentioned that much and will probably die at the Cornucopia bloodbath (just to avoid overcrowding the story). But I hope you like all the characters selected from the reaping and I'm sorry if your favorite didn't get picked (though, you might want to be happy because they get to live!). But, regardless, I hope you enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I own not a thing.

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May The Odds

Katniss

In the Capital square, at the center of the city, thousands have gathered to this outside area. A stage stands there, with a podium in the front and two chairs in the back. Effie sits in one and Coin in the other. One glass ball on the left holds the girls' names; the one on the right holds the boys'. The balls will be replaced after tributes from each are picked. Those two balls hold every child from District 1's names in them currently. A dusty red velvet curtain serves as the background, and behind that is the building where the selected tributes will say goodbye to their loved ones before being shipped off to District Thirteen. The grossing numbers of children have been separated by their 'districts' and roped off by gender, with the younger near the back and the oldest closest to the stage. Nervous glances are exchanged; silent tears are shed, and the dreadful foreboding of what is to come settles.

We, the mentors and Gamemakers, sit above the crowd in a box on one of the high rise buildings across from the stage. I'm seated in the first row with Haymitch on my left, clutching a crystal glass and Peeta on my right, holding my hand. Enormous screens have been set up all over the place and camera crews and Peacekeepers weave around the citizens.

Coin steps up to the podium in her crisp, black suit, and begins a prepared speech that will now become the new annual declaration before each reaping. She speaks for about an hour on Panem's early years, the Dark Days, the district's Hunger Games, the rebellion, their victory, and the Capital Hunger Games.

"Now, Effie, it you would be so kind, to begin the reaping." Coin turns and extends her arm to Effie, who smiles and goes over to the glass ball on the left. Coin sits.

"Ladies first!" Effie says, trying to sound excited. Though I can tell how dejected she is about this situation.

Her hand delves deep into the ball, grabs a slip, and she waltzes over to the center microphone at the edge of the stage. "Our first tribute is…" The crowd collectively draws in a breath and it is utter silence as she unfolds the paper. "Sugar Motta!"

Sugar Motta doesn't cry; she doesn't even look like she's trying not to cry. As soon as she starts moving through the crowd, the camera finds her and her face is on every screen in Panem. She's a normal tan color (unlike so many blue and turquoise girls around her); her caramel colored hair is pin-straight and layered down to her shoulders. She's pretty so she'll get some sponsors based on that. As she goes up the steps and crosses the stage, her nose is held ever so slightly in the air. She takes her place at the very end of the stage, pride and arrogance showing on every inch of her demeanor. No one cries for her or begs for volunteers. Either she has no one who cares, or she has no one who thinks this isn't an honor. I expect the latter based on her overconfident face.

"Any volunteers?" Effie asks, but no one wants to ruin this girl's dream. No one wants to die her death. "Now, Sugar, to select your counterpart!" Effie smiles as Sugar, who grins back, and trots over to the boys' names. Her hand dives through the bowl, grabs a slip, and she proceeds to the microphone, "Sebastian Smythe!"

Sugar

Finally, I'm in the games! I know how most of the kids in the Capital didn't ever like watching the Hunger Games, saying how it was cruel and brutal, but I loved them. They were the highlight of my year. I always wanted to win them, and now, I will. Especially with this Sebastian guy on my side. He looks strong enough, kind of smirky, though, which makes me think he knows more than me. But it's probably just a game face. Either way he'll be a good ally. I've seen him occasionally in the training center in our 'district' so I know he's good with spears. And I excel at swordsmanship. We're prepared.

Sebastian

I glare at the crowd when Effie asks for volunteers. I see a few boys ready to take a step forward, but my icy gaze makes them think twice, and our reaping balls have already been replaced by District 2's.

I don't know about Sugar as an ally though. Her face tells everyone she thinks she can win this without lifting a finger. And I know that's not possible, based on her performance in the District 1 training center. Still, it might be fun to keep her around, if only to see the look on her face when the rest of the Careers kill her. It makes me smile to think about her death. She's stupid and I'm smart. She'll be the first of the strong to go. Hopefully, I'll get the pleasure.

Katniss

Careers, both of them. My face is grim because of the similarities here. Those arrogant looks on their faces tell everyone they've been trained. They both think they'll win the games. Sugar's pitifully wrong, but Sebastian might be right. One thing's for certain: They're getting no help from me.

The two shake hands, smiling at each other; Sugar, brightly, Sebastian, in a way that's knowing, seductive, and evil all the same. But she's probably too dim to find a deeper meaning in it. Still, when the screens show their hands shaking, their lips smiling, and their eyes flashing fiercely for a second, I can tell an alliance has been made.

Effie gets the audience to applaud. In four seconds it's silent and she's back at the microphone with a slip, carefully unfolding it.

Santana

I know who it is. I know it even before it happens. The odds are never in my favor.

Effie Trinket, the bitch, unfolds the paper and trills the name out in her disgusting voice. "Brittany S. Pierce!"

The beautiful girl holding my hand tightens her grip. I can't return the pressure, I'm so numb. I can't even turn my head to look at her. So I imagine her, with all the shock on her face and the tears threatening to spill over her eyes. We stand there, unmoving; with our hands locked so tight I think all the bones in mine are broken. But I don't give a damn. I don't know how long it's been, but it feels like hours when I feel the pressure disappear.

Finally, I've come back to reality. My head turns sharply, my eyes desperately searching for her. I run out of the section for District 2 girls and look down the empty space that leads to the stage steps. There she is! Two Peacekeepers keep a hand on each of her shoulders. I can only see the back of her head. I look to the screens; I want to see her face. She's cold, stiff. But her bottom lip is quivering and tear tracks stain her cheeks. The other tributes, already on the stage, have probably pegged her as weak by now. They'll crush her. She's too innocent to kill. She's too naïve to even know how. She's too precious to lose.

I'm about to run full speed to her and scream the two words I will never be able to take back. But a Peacekeeper tells me to get back into my section, adding a light shove, when an idea occurs to me. A way to save her, and help me save myself.

I move back inside the group of girls as she shakily mounts the steps and every screen in the square projects her beautiful face. Oh how much I want to run up there and volunteer for her right now. How badly I want to save her with those two powerful words. How greatly I want her to know that I care for her, that I'm not simply standing here weeping, and doing nothing to save her. But I will go into these games instead of her. And if I'm ever going to get into the Career pack (my best chance at survival), its better they think I'm some incredibly confident, dangerous killing machine. I've told her before – when she asks me if I love her – I've told her I'd die for her. And I am determined to honor that promise.

Finally, she's reached Effie, who's just called for volunteers. I waste no time and bolt back out into the aisle and yell with all the strength I have in me, "I VOLUNTEER!" I cross the distance to the stage steps at a sprint, "I volunteer!" I'm calmer this time, but you can still hear a quiet desperation in my voice. I look to Brittany, hoping to find gratitude in her eyes, and see longing, distress, and fear in them. Did she really expect me to let her go through with this, she knows she can't fight. At least I pose a chance. But she's looking at me like I'm dangling from a noose.

Effie's currently pushing Brittany back towards the steps, taking me by the shoulders and corralling me towards the microphone. "Well, you sure are eager, aren't you?" Effie smiles are me, pleased to see things liven up I guess.

Instead of smiling and saying something back, I just glare at her. Very quickly, her grin disappears, "Um, what is your name, dear?"

"Santana Lopez." I say sharply, wanting her to move on to the boys' reaping ball.

"Well now, let's hear it for the Capital's first ever volunteer, Santana Lopez!" Effie practically shrieks in my ear.

I want admiration for how brave I am to take the place of someone I love. I want everyone to think of me as passionate because of this action. And most absurdly of all, I want everyone to remain silent, touch the three fingers on their left hand to their lips and hold them out to me.

But of course, that doesn't happen. I'm not Katniss Everdeen. No one here probably even puts me in the same boat as her, except maybe Brittany. Yes, we've looked up to her since we were ten and she stepped up to volunteer for her sister. The first year Brittany's parents let her watch the games. My parents had always let me; they knew it was a brutal thing to do to the district children. But sometimes I believe they got caught up in the adrenaline and the action, and it became easy to forget that these were simply kids being punished. And terribly enough, I sometimes forgot, too. And Katniss helped me see that it was real when she volunteered for Prim, thinking that it meant death.

Now I'm here to take the place of Brittany to save her, and no one even knows it. They all just think I'm a Career. That I'm so self-confident that I'll win the games, I willingly took part in them. Since I'm planning on joining the Careers, no evidence will be able to prove them wrong. So everyone claps half-heartedly and Effie nudges me over to Sebastian. He and Sugar give me a once over, judging me, to see if I'm good enough to join them. They act like they haven't made up their minds yet, like they'll wait until training. So I take my place a few feet from Sebastian and turn back toward the audience.

Effie's already called out my district partner and I see him now, making his way down the aisle. A pale, scared kid with an orange Jew-fro and glasses. He's sweating and looks like he might faint. It's pitiful, but he can at least act tough. Effie's lightly nudging him towards the front of the stage, careful not to get sweat on her hands. She calls for volunteers and a voice yells out as a boy walks calmly to the stage. For a split second I'm grateful. Because it means I won't have to stand next to this sweat factory while twenty more tributes get picked. But then I remember the usual reason why someone volunteers: because they know they can win. I look at him and can tell automatically he's right. Because he's Jesse St. James. A large, muscular, handsome kid I've seen around the training center in District 2. Therefore, I know he's crazy with swords, spears, you name it. A powerful ally as well as a dangerous enemy. He'll be the strongest Career and my biggest obstacle. Sure enough, when the guy turns around to shake my hand, I see the look on his face and I know he won't be just another Career. He'll lead the pack.

Katniss

Under normal circumstances, I think that anyone volunteering from a place called District 2 would be a Career who thought it was guaranteed that they'd be a victor. But Santana Lopez doesn't strike me as this. She knows she has a chance, but it's clear she doesn't want to be in the games. The hint of desperation in her voice when she first spoke and the way she looked at Brittany, as if she was seeking approval. These two girls must have a connection to each other. And I'd like to find out what it is. I'd like to help them, if I can.

But with this Jesse kid as her district partner, it might be a problem.

The next girl picked doesn't seem like anything special; a fourteen year old with auburn hair who is already crying at her predicament as she stands a few feet from Jesse.

However, her partner shows that there really is no mercy in these games; a boy in a wheelchair, Artie Abrams. A few minutes are spent on him, with Coin talking to dozens of high-rank medical and government officials off stage when they finally come up with a solution: an operation to repair his legs. Whatever accident that made him like this must have happened after the rebellion won. Otherwise he could've had them fixed already. He rolls beside the crying girl. He doesn't shed one tear, but the flicker of hope that was in his eyes when Coin was deciding if he could even play has vanished.

The girl picked for District 4, Andrea Cohen, is an obvious Career; every inch of her face appears deadly. The boy picked, Sam, however, looks like he could be a Career, but it's too early to tell if he'll join them.

"Now for District 5!" I can hear Effie growing weary. She's been prancing around the stage in those ridiculous heels for a good thirty minutes. Her hand delves into another reaping ball and grabs a slip about halfway in. The crowd, once again, draws a collective breath, "Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn Fabray, Quinn Fabray… where have I heard that name before? The cameras find her face as she walks out of her section and heads to the stage. She's a pretty girl with cropped blonde hair and green eyes. Eyes that are full of sorrow and struggle beyond her years. I don't recognize her face but I'm sure I've heard her name before.

As I try to place it, Peeta nudges me with his elbow. I lean over to him and he whispers in my ear, "Shelby Corcoran, the Capital official assigned as mentor to District 5, adopted her daughter, Beth."

That's where I've heard her name. She's had a baby? That must be why her eyes are so disheartened for her young face. I silently wonder what else could have happened to this poor girl, besides being reaped, as she mounts the stage. How did her parents react? How did the father react? How did it feel to give the child away? I risk turning around to see how Shelby has reacted. She's a few rows behind me, leaning slightly forward, with one of her hands clutching the seat in front of her so hard, her knuckles are white. I turn back to the reaping.

"Noah Puckerman!"

I haven't even noticed Effie has picked another slip.

Noah Puckerman, that name I immediately recognize. He's Beth's father. Their two names being draw is the slimmest possibility ever, but even so, it has happened. All of this is too much for Shelby and I hear her get out of her chair and run to exit the balcony.

Noah Puckerman is a large boy with tan skin, muscles, and a mohawk. He seems incredibly angry as he takes his place beside Quinn. Quinn seems more shocked than anything and just stares blankly at Noah as he grabs her hand to shake. But she regains herself and puts on a stoic expression as Effie picks the names for District 6.

The District 6 girl is around fourteen and manages to keep her expression, framed by a bob of sandy blonde hair, tough. But she's still small. The boy from District 6, Dave Karofsky, is bigger that all the Careers, even Jesse. His expression shows grit and anger; he should be able to make it far in the games on his size alone. Whether he'll join the Careers or not is yet to be determined.

District 7 shows a plain pair, but something about them intrigues me. The girl is around fifteen, with straight brown hair and tan skin; she's somewhat plain, but still pretty. The boy, Finn, has lighter skin, darker hair, and he's as tall as a tree.

The pair from District 8 both don't seem like much; a skinny blonde girl who cried as she walked up and a short boy with curly black hair, Blaine Anderson.

District 9 hauls in a thirteen year old girl with fiery red hair and a tall boy with dark hair. He looks muscular enough, Mike, who must be about seventeen.

A pale girl with wavy back hair, Harmony, is chosen for District 10, along with a small boy with brown hair, Rory, who almost bursts into tears as he mounts the steps.

A small girl with dark skin and long brown hair gets reaped for District 11 along with a skinny dark skinned sixteen year old boy, David.

"And finally, District 12!" Effie's voice has gone back to its normal trill. She's only happy because it's finally over. She doesn't waste time and plucks the first slip she touches, and goes back to the microphone to read the last female tribute's name, "Rachel Berry!"

Rachel

Time's frozen. Me? Me. All those years of watching my people force children to kill each other and the tables have finally turned. I'm going to kill someone, or, more likely, someone will kill me before I can.

Kurt, my best friend, he'll watch me die. My dads will watch me die. Their little girl being beaten to death by someone on that stage right now. I get a glimpse at their faces. The first two picked, eye me like a piece of meat. And the District 2 boy, one can only imagine how he's fantasizing about murdering me. As if in slow motion, I turn and begin walking out of the girls' section. Once I'm at the edge of the aisle, a Peacekeeper waves me forward. And when I don't move, time speeds back up. The Peacekeeper grabs my arm and pulls me out. Another grabs my other arm and they lead me to the stage. They let go once we get to the steps, letting me mount them on my own. I make my way over to Effie who pats me on the back, and points to a spot beside the boy who just got reaped from 11.

I can't feel my legs. I don't know how I got to the end of the stage. I turn my head toward Effie, she's saying something but I can't hear it. She's heading towards the bowl filled with the boys' names. I look to the sky, not wanting to know who's picked.

I still can't hear; I'm frozen in place with fear. I could be looking at the sky for only seconds, or maybe hours, I'm unaware of how much time has gone by when someone squeezes my hand. It's a boy's hand. Another tribute is standing beside me. The last tribute. I'm scared to look, afraid of whom it is. It takes all the force I have to even turn my neck, but somehow I manage it.

Kurt. It's Kurt. My best friend and I are going to be locked in an arena, and forced to fight to the death.

Just before we're being pushed off stage and into the building where we'll say goodbye to our families, Effie Trinket's voice snakes its way into my ears, "…and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

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A/N: Could you tell who I added? It wasn't much, just Harmony, David, and that one girl from Vocal Adrenaline, Andrea Cohen. Also, I really want to know what you think of Santana looking up to Katniss. And would like to see more of that sort-of relationship? Do you want Katniss to help Santana? Or should she only help if Santana refuses to join the Careers? Let me know what you think, bye!


	3. A Soul Worth Saving

A/N: Another chapter! This one has definitely been kept the same. So I don't really need to say that much. Except that this one and the next have been cut into two, so they're really short. But the whole next chapter will be the tributes on the train and then entering District Thirteen. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything in this story, except the plot.

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A Soul Worth Saving

Santana

Peacekeepers escort us into rooms one by one as we walk down a long hallway. Since I was the third tribute picked, I'm one of the first to be put in a room. It's small for Capital standards. But pretty much everything's been downgraded here since the rebellion won. And I live with Brittany's family, who isn't rich by any means. But there's a white fur rug, mahogany cabinets and end tables, and two black leather sofas. I haven't touched real leather since I was abandoned by my family. As I run my hand over the back of the furniture, I remember my grandmother's favorite handbag. Made of the same material, she would have it every time she came over to our house (before she moved in with us after grandpa died). I'd sit at her feet and dig through it, eating her cinnamon mints and applying a coat of her too red lipstick. I take my hand off of the back of the sofa, not wanting to remember my most recent memories of Abuela. Still, I wonder if she'll come to say goodbye. I don't count on it, but don't push it completely from my mind.

As I consider the possibility of my family coming to see me, the door swings open.

"You have three minutes." I hear a Peacekeeper say from somewhere beyond the door and I walk in front of the sofa to greet my first guest.

It's Brittany's family, but not Brittany. Where is she? She couldn't be so heartless as to not even say goodbye, could she? But I don't bother asking them where she is because they're already suffocating me with their embraces and soaking me with their tears. I stay strong though, determined not to cry. I can't be seen as weak, not if I want the Careers to take me. Brittany's parents keep repeating their thanks for me volunteering for Brittany. At least someone knows why I did this.

While they're still mumbling their gratitude, Brittany's brother comes over and hugs me. "Don't let her watch alone, stay with her whenever something bad happens to me." I whisper, and I know he will. Her brother has always been protective of her and even somewhat protective of me since I moved in. "I'm gonna try… as hard I can… to get back to her."

"I know you are." He whispers back, wrapping his arms around me even tighter, "'Cause you know we'd never forgive you if you didn't try."

Finally we let go and all four of us spend another minute on the sofa. Me listening quietly as her parents cry, and holding her brother's hand until the Peacekeeper opens the door and orders them out.

"Take care of her." I tell her brother, giving his hand one final squeeze.

"Take care of yourself." He tells me, right before the door closes them off from me.

About a minute goes by with me alone. I don't even move from my spot in front of the door. As the seconds increase, I begin to wonder if they were my only visitors when the door opens again. I take in a sharp breath, refusing to be hopeful about who it is.

"Three minutes." The Peacekeeper reminds me again.

But before I see who it is, I'm attacked by arms that refuse to let me go and all I can see is blonde.

It's her. It's Brittany.

All the air I was holding in comes out in one huge breath as I wrap my arms around her too. I squeeze her as hard as I can, not wanting to ever leave this embrace that could very well be our last.

I shake this prospect out of my head, _No Santana. You'll fight, you'll win, and you'll hold her like this again._ This newfound determination gives me the strength to let go of her.

We move to the couch and sit in silence, holding each other's hands, for another minute. Until finally, she speaks.

"I cannot believe you're doing this for me." it's barely audible, somewhat below a whisper.

"You can't believe this as in it's too horrible to be true, or as in you can't figure out why I volunteered for you?" I ask.

She smiles, "Both."

"Well… this is happening, so we might as well accept it," I say bluntly, "And as for the volunteering…" I can't believe she still does not comprehend why I did this. I place my hand on her shoulder and she raises her head to look me in the eye, "Brittany… I've said before that I would die for you. And I've said this because I love you so much. And I couldn't bear to watch you in those games. Volunteering was the only thing to prevent you from dying."

"I love you Santana."

Puck

How the hell could this have happened? I'm no math whiz but even I know that it was impossible for me _and_ Quinn to get reaped. We're being led down the hallway now, into our separate rooms. That wheelchair kid is going into his room now. I don't want to go into a room by myself. I don't want to leave Quinn. I know she's gonna start crying as soon as the door closes behind her. I want to be there to comfort her.

Shelby must be in hell right now. I know she'll want to come see us, but I doubt that she'll be allowed. Why would mentors say goodbye to someone they're gonna spend the next week with? I just hope I get to see Beth again.

How the _hell_ could this have happened?

Quinn

I'm pushed into a room by a Peacekeeper and the door closes behind me. It's silent except for the shuffle of feet that cross the tiled floor.

I take I seat on one of the sofas as I ponder this fate.

We're all kids. All too young. And I can't help but think of Beth.

She just turned two last month. The other day Puck and I were planning on babysitting while the games were going on. All I can think of now is never being able to. The thought of never seeing my baby again is enough to break me. It feels like my chest is collapsing. I hold myself and double over. My whole body shakes with dry sobs, but no tears, and the door opens.

It must be my first guest. I manage to straighten my back but still carry on with the sobbing. I listen for the Peacekeeper to give me a time limit, but don't hear one.

"Quinn."

It's Puck's voice.

I feel him sit next to me, wrap his arms around me. I'm still shaking and sobbing as his hold around me tightens. Not showing the slightest sign of letting go. After a while I manage to calm down and he lets go.

We sit in silence, but there's a question that I have to ask.

"Do we have an alliance?" It's a dumb question, the answer probably so obvious to him, and I feel stupid for not knowing what he'll say. Therefore, I have to ask.

He doesn't answer, just looks at me with his intense stare. He's trying to decide if I really don't know the answer.

He opens his mouth to give me his reply when the door opens again.

"You're not supposed to be here." a Peacekeeper steps in and says to Puck, "Get out, her mother's here. And your guests are waiting."

Puck rises from the couch and follows the man out the door. But he turns to look at me before he's out of view though, and gives me what I think is a nod.

A 'yes' to an alliance.

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A/N: So I know that was short, but the next one will be longer, and we get to see more tributes. But I hope you realized that I'm trying to focus mainly on Santana, Quinn, Puck, Rachel, Finn, Kurt, and Blaine. The others will be mentioned occasionally and you will get to experience their point of views. Until next time…


	4. Pride, Protection, And A Promise

A/N: So this chapter is the first and probably only day I will show of the tributes on the train. It's just another short chapter I didn't change that much. But I did add another character's point of view. Enjoy!

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Pride, Protection, And A Promise

Sugar

It's right after we all said our goodbyes to our friends and family. I didn't get too sentimental. Because I know I'll be coming back. Now we're all loaded into our separate compartments on the trains that will take us to District Thirteen. Only three districts to a single train. Coin, Katniss, her boy toy, and that drunken guy get their own private train. Dustin Goolsby, my and Sebastian's mentor, has sat us down in the dining car to discuss our strategies and alliances and stuff. I'm only half listening to what they're saying. Like I need these two dudes to tell me how to survive. Also, I don't know if Dustin Goolsby likes me very much. So instead, I think back to my goodbyes.

My best friends came to see me first. They spent the whole time telling me how jealous they were of me and how great I'm going to do in the games. Which, I have to admit, was pretty nice to hear.

Then my dad and my stepmom came to see me. He congratulated me, saying he couldn't believe our luck. How our family is going to be honored. I don't want to let him down, so I'll be sure to do the best in the arena. I was practically bouncing with excitement at the end of our goodbye when he brought her up.

A person who's hardly ever mentioned in our house any more.

My mother.

He actually cried when he told me how terrible it is that she missed this. How happy she would have been. All the while, his wife was standing uncomfortably in the corner. She looked glad to get rid of me for a few weeks. Then my dad gave me my token.

My hand reaches up to touch the pearls now around my neck: an old choker of her's. When I run my fingers over them, I'm invigorated with a new sense of power.

I am going to make my mother proud.

Sebastian

Another reason Sugar's not going to win: Goolsby just said that I'm the more likely to, and he'll do everything he can to make sure I do. Sugar should be outraged at what he said if she were listening. But all she's doing is fiddling with that pearl necklace of her's. I don't think she had it at the reaping, so one of her visitors must have given it to her. Probably her loaded parents who wanted her to remember how rich she is. It's just insane how confident she is. When she obviously has no real talent, skill, or drive. The moment when she realizes she's wrong will be so cruel; I can't wait to see it.

Santana

Once we step on the train I realize I can't wait to lock the door to my room. I want to be alone. I finally want to cry.

Cry because Brittany will have to see me at my worst on a screen. Cry because once I join the Careers in training, I'll be forced to act like a monster. And cry because after Brittany, I had no more visitors.

Abuela didn't show up. And she probably convinced my parents not to go too.

I was looking forward to the day when she loves me again. But I guess that day will happen after I'm dead.

Jesse's talking to me about how he can't wait to show off at training when we get into one of our cars. I ask the nearest attendant where my room is, ready to start crying. But a voice behind Jesse and me tells the attendant to leave.

We turn around and a tall blonde woman in a track suit is staring down at us.

"Well now, Home-perm, Sandbags, say hello to your mentor. Me: Sue Sylvester."

Jesse

Sue Sylvester is insane. When we first get on the train, she demands we sit down and automatically begins some long, prepared speech about what losers we are, how we couldn't be more pathetic, and how we'll be lucky to survive the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. As if. I'm Jesse St. James. If anyone's going to win these games, it's going to be me. Santana's going to be a good ally, under my control as I lead the Careers. Sebastian from 1 will be good too. And we could use Sugar as a pack mule.

I've seen Santana around the training center back home. She's lethal, but it's clear she has no interest in the games whatsoever. Everyone else thinks she's just a normal Career tribute. Dangerous, confident, deadly. But I know better. I know the real reason she volunteered. It was to save that dim little blonde girlfriend of her's. And that's a secret I can definitely use against her. And I'll let her know that as soon as Sue's done with us.

Quinn

Now that I'm alone in my room, I have the privacy to cry. But I don't. I guess I got all of my crying over with after the reaping. Now I can't feel anything. I'm even trying to think of things that should bring me to tears. Nothing. I feel nothing.

I sit on the bed, unmoving, for a good thirty minutes. I contemplate trying to take a nap when someone knocks on my door.

"Yes?" I say, though it sounds more like a croak.

"Shelby wants to talk to us in the dining car." Puck tells me.

After all the crying and despair with my mother after the reaping it'd be nice to actually plan a strategy. To see how much hope I should have.

"I'll be right there."

Puck

After Shelby's done with hugging and reassuring us, we finally sit down and begin to talk strategy. But I already have one.

"First off," she says, "Are you two going to work together?" she gives us each a hard stare. As if I wouldn't want to drag around Quinn. And as if Quinn doesn't trust me.

"Yes." I say, "I'm going to protect her no matter what happens."

"And... if it comes down to the two of you?" Shelby's testing me. Trying to see what means more to me: my life, or Quinn.

"Quinn will win." This seems to surprise Quinn. I look at her, determined to make her understand. "I _promise_ you're getting out of that arena."

A single tear slides down her cheek and she smiles a broken smile.

"Okay then," Shelby says, "Now let's talk strategy-"

"I actually already have one." I say.

"Well let's hear it."

"We join the Careers."

Quinn's jaw drops. She and Shelby both stare at me in disbelief.

"Puck... we couldn't-" Quinn struggles to find the right words.

"Just hear me out." I wait and they decide to listen, "If we join them at the beginning, we can take down all the weak ones. Then, when there's only a few more left that they have to hunt, we just sneak off one night. Then we wait for the others to come to us."

Everything's quiet as they think it over. About a minute goes by before anyone speaks.

They need more convincing. "We'll have supplies when we're with them. They won't turn on us as long as they have someone to hunt. That's why we'll sneak off before all the other tributes are killed. And when we do, it'll be when everybody else is asleep. We'll say we'll be lookouts that night. Then, we can take whatever we want as we leave. As long as we're quick and quiet. We can wait it out as they take down the other weak ones. When they can't find us, they'll get agitated and turn on each other. So one or two will be all that's left and all we have to kill."

More minutes go by in silence. I'm about to start talking again when Shelby finally speaks.

"It could work, Noah. But it's just that... it's _incredibly_ risky. And-"

"Let's do it." Quinn says.

"What?" Shelby and I both ask.

I haven't even looked to Quinn. I want to convince Shelby first. But Quinn's sitting there, nodding, looking like herself. I definitely didn't think she'd be the first to agree.

"Quinn... are you sure?" Shelby asks.

"Yes. Absolutely." She says with finality and I know the matter is closed.

But Shelby still takes her time, looking at us. Making sure we're confident this is what we want.

"Okay." for the first time during this meeting, she relaxes. "Now, what weapons do you two know how to use?"

"I can handle myself with a sword. I'm good. And Quinn knows her way with a bow."

Shelby raises her eyebrows at us and we nod. We are good with these weapons.

"Shelby," Quinn says, "We can do this."

Kurt

It's eleven o'clock and I'm still crying off and on. I cried when my dad came said goodbye to me but I stayed strong when Rachel's dads came to see me. Both Rachel and I managed to keep our eyes dry as we were being corralled into the train, with the other tributes and cameras so close. But as soon as Rachel and I were alone in our compartments, she broke down again.

Even during the meeting with our mentor, Will Shuester, she wouldn't stop crying. He was sympathetic. She clung to my arm the whole time Mr. Shuester talked to us. We all agreed that us teaming up would be good. But I could tell that we all three thought there was hardly any hope for us. Neither of us has had any weapon training. But I can forage, I know what's safe to eat and what's not. And we're both fast. So that means we could make it away from the Cornucopia and survive on plants if the arena has the right setting.

We also discussed who else we would want to team up with. We agreed to wait to ask until after training.

It may seem silly but I can't help my mind wandering to the boy from 8. Blaine Anderson. I feel incredibly stupid when I think about him. I don't even know him. This boy may very well be the one that does me in, but I know he'll be the first I ask to team up.

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A/N: I know that these first few chapters may seem dull, but I promise it'll pick up once the games start. Just be sure to review and let me know if there are any other characters that you'd like to see their point of view. And let me know if you think Puck's plan to join the Careers with Quinn will work.

Bye!


	5. From Coals To Pearls

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far, I truly adore your compliments and support.

This chapter is all the tribute parade and nothing else. I cut this part out when I posted this story before, but I'm actually glad I'm keeping it. And this is the first time we've seen Katniss since the reaping. I wonder if she's taken the time to figure out the mystery of Santana volunteering…

And I'm not the biggest fashionista, so please don't criticize the costumes too harshly.

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From Coals To Pearls

Kurt

I should be my own stylist. I mean, it's very clear that this incompetent team of fools has _no idea_ what it's doing. And since I'm practically walking the plank, I'd like to spend at least a few days looking fabulous as I do. I refuse to parade around in a hard helmet and soot coated overalls, holding a pickaxe! Even though I may currently live in a place called District 12, that doesn't mean it's full of coal miners! Zero point zero zero coal miners live there! The stylists in the games have, for the most part, always shown to be completely unoriginal and utterly appalling with what they do. That is why I've swatted away every suggestion they make and have taken it upon myself to make sure that Rachel and I are absolutely stunning for the parade tonight.

Santana

After the basic scrub down and general cleaning, my team of stylists goes to work. I only pick up bits and pieces of what they are saying. There's something about "accentuating my curves," "staying true to the dark and powerful aura of my persona," "keeping my face twisted yet whimsical." It's all nonsense to me. It doesn't take much to make me look good but I'd still like to be able to look into the mirror and recognize myself. After hours of standing still while they coat me in various fabrics, feathers, gemstones, makeup, glitter, and tattoos, they steer me towards the mirror to complement them on their work.

When I look at the person in front of me, I hardly recognize her. She's so dominating, terrifying, incredible.

First, I notice my eyes, which have been outlined in thick lines of black with fake eyelashes shaped like tiny feathers adorned around them. They've given me contacts to make my irises completely black. _So much for whimsical._ My lips are painted a glossy black and blush has made my face look hollow. My hair is twice as long as it was this morning, pulled into a high ponytail with wild curls falling down my back. A shimmering tiara made of sparkling black stones is planted on top of my head. I'm wearing a black lace corset that exposes a lot of skin and a skirt that's inappropriately short in the front and outrageously long in the back. Both with feathers that tremble with every move I make. My body's decorated in various black tattoos and shinny powders. Ripped, sheer tights and knee high black leather boots complete my "sexy demonic crow" look.

The team stares expectantly at me, awaiting my admiration. I give them no praise, because all I can think about is District 3's horses stepping on the train and ripping off my skirt in front of all of Panem.

Blaine

The stylists here have a complete lack of creativity. Don't these people understand that we are not the old districts and we do not specialize in their expertise? I guess not, because my partner and I are dressed in clothes that appear to have gone through a paper shredder. District 8… textiles. So the stylists went with a normal tuxedo for me and a gown for her, but chopped them up and made sure loose threads and seams were pouring out. It's like the machine making our costumes had a slight jam and miniature explosion. My stylist said it represents how District 8 once made fine clothes, but since it's been destroyed by _our_ bombs, the fabric should reflect that. She said this to us as if we personally dropped those bombs on the district.

I wonder if the old stylists use to be this cruel to the other tributes while they were in our positions. Did they blame those children for the war as my stylist is doing to me?

Puck

Six of the most horrific hours of my life were just spent. They are now right next to the reaping and watching Quinn give birth. Thank God it's over. Now, Quinn and I are in some huge garage-looking room with the rest of the tributes. The parade won't start for another ten minutes, so everyone's trying to arrange the chariots in the right order and make sure the horses don't poop everywhere.

After all that torture from the stylists, I expected to look like a drag queen. But I was surprised that they managed to keep me looking like a dude. And since District 5 was the power plant district, I thought they were gonna coat me and Quinn in tinfoil and tie antennas to our heads. But after I laid down my inner Puckasaurus, I guess they wanted to unleash it. So they've given me black leather, spikes, face paint, spiked my mohawk… anything to make me look badass and rock n' roll.

Quinn's even better. They've transformed her into my Heavy Metal Punk Queen. Messing her hair up and giving it white and black streaks. Her dress looks like an improper wedding dress. Incredibly short, ripped, with white fishnets torn with holes, it laces up the back and shows off a ton of skin.

We look ready to kick ass without any hesitation.

Quinn

I know Puck's happy with our costumes for the tribute parade. But I couldn't be more uncomfortable. I look utterly opposite to who I actually am. Luckily, for the interviews, the stylists will dress us to more my taste, Shelby told me. Parade… Puck. Interviews… me.

_You can make it through one night, Quinn, one night of not being yourself._ I have to scratch that. I'm not spending one night as someone else… I'm spending the rest of my life as someone else. As a Career. As a girl who's forced to become a brutal, barbaric, animal just to see her daughter again. And what little girl wants a monster for a mother? I should have never agreed to Puck's idea. But I can't refuse him. I can't take away my faith in him, not when he needs it most. He needs my trust, or else. Who knows what he'd become without it?

Katniss

Peeta and I sit, straight across from where the tributes will enter to start the parade. After finding the security footage from the rooms where the tributes said their goodbyes, I now know why Santana volunteered for Brittany. And I have silently vowed to do everything in my power to make sure she wins. It's because she was the only one who volunteered for someone she loves. Because she deserves to win. Because she reminds me of myself. I need to talk to her, to tell her not to team up with the Careers like I know she's going to. To let her know that I'll help her, as long as she doesn't join them.

Now's not the time to worry about that. I'm supposed to be observing the tributes, to see how well the stylists have done in trying to get sponsors. And my mind picked the right time to avert its attention from Santana. Because the streetlamps are dimming, the music is starting, the crowd is silencing, and the chariots are emerging from the shadows opposite us.

The District 1 tributes look like two perfectly frosted cupcakes. Flowing pastel fabric, sugared down with sparkling diamonds. They receive a normal about of applause and their fair share of tossed flowers. Sebastian clearly hates his costume, but soaks up all of the applause. Wearing a proud smirk, he waves to the crowd. Sugar loves every minute of this. With a grin a mile wide, she's jumping to catch every flower thrown her way, waving frantically to the crowd, and blowing kisses left and right.

I'm impressed with Santana's stylists. They've made her look like a black bird ready to sink its talons into the nearest tribute. She's elegant, menacing, entrancing, and stunning. I can see they've tried to do the same with Jesse, but he looks more like a baby bird, frayed, and coated in an undesirable substance. They both remain serious, not blowing kisses or even waving. They are as far apart as they could be in the chariot. They both stare down at the crowd, as if they're gracing them by not killing each person who tosses them a rose. But that only makes the crowd more desperate for even a glance. The overall result is bond to get more than a few sponsors.

District 3, nothing special, but I can see that their chariot is slightly larger than the rest, to accommodate Artie's wheelchair. He's operation is right after this. Most of their applause is met with weeping. Pity for a boy who can't use his legs will guarantee sponsors.

District 4 is coated with shinning scales, clumps of seaweed, bits of coral, and they appear to be soaked to the bone. Not original, or well-received. But the crowd applauds and throws them a few roses. They must be freezing but they still manage smiles and wave.

The parents from 5 have unusual attire, but they carry it with redounding success. Noah seems to enjoy this and keeps raising an odd gesture to the crowd (his pointer finger, pinky, and thumb extended, while the other two fingers are down). I don't know what it means, probably some crazy Capital sign that means "thank you." Quinn wears a smirk that is a huge contrast to her personality so far. Yes, I looked at her security footage too. She also flashes the odd hand sign to the audience. The crowd doesn't know what to make of them at first, but immediately applauds and does Noah's hand gesture back, throwing roses to them.

I don't take much notice to District 6, all I take note of is the color of their outfits and they seem to get a mild amount of applause.

This is the same with all the other districts… until 12. After Cinna, I didn't think anyone could make a tribute look as fantastic as Peeta and I did those two years. But whoever is the stylist for Kurt and Rachel, they managed to uphold 12's amazing first impressions.

The pair seems to glow with white light and shimmer as brilliantly as the moon. Kurt wears a somewhat tight suit and Rachel wears a mermaid style gown. Both of their costumes are made from the same material: a pale, silk-like fabric that shimmers and seems to reflect the rainbow with even the slightest of breeze. They each wear matching capes of the same material. The crowd loves them, throwing roses, applauding, shouting random compliments. The two in the chariot adore the reaction of their appearance, smiling back and blowing kisses. Rachel whispers something to Kurt, who beams even brighter. They're clearly the most popular pair.

"_If you put enough pressure on coals, they turn into pearls!" _I smile, remembering Effie's crazy notion. But it does seem that these two tributes have become exactly this.

* * *

A/N: I know of my lack of creativity on those outfits. Let know what you thought of this chapter. Thanks! Review, review, review!


	6. Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Part 1

A/N: Another update! I'm becoming crazy with these things! Here is where we get down to business and start discovering the tributes' talents and who they have in mind for allies (besides the Careers cause everybody knows who they are). Enjoy!

* * *

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Part 1

Santana

It's the morning after the parade and I'm immediately awakened by the fake sunlight emitting from the large screen that pretends to be a window. Currently, it shows a crystal blue sky and fluffy white clouds with the sun peeking out from behind them.

The feeling of suffocation sweeps over me when I realize I won't ever see the actual sky while I'm here.

I could change the setting, but I leave it on its default, letting it illuminate the room. The clock on my nightstand reads six thirty. Training doesn't start until ten but I decide to get ready anyway. I undress in the bathroom and hop in the shower. Choosing from what seems like over a hundred settings for water pressure and temperature, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges. I finally pick a water pressure and temperature that's slightly steaming, a plush loofa, and a strawberry wash and shampoo that's scent reminds me of Brittany. When I step out, heaters dry my body.

At the mirror, I place my hand on a box and a current goes through my hair (free from the heavy extensions of last night), untangling, parting, and drying it almost instantly. I decide to have a little fun while I'm here and program another gadget to style it. In about thirty seconds, my hair flows freely around my shoulders in glossy waves that form curls near the ends.

In the closet I find my outfit for training, a black jumpsuit with my district number on the shoulders and black boots. I put them on and check the clock. Seven. It's still fairly early, so I browse through the clothing options.

After I've had my fun looking through the closet I find a mouthpiece and a menu in another part of my quarters. That's when I realize I haven't eaten since the train ride. We didn't get any food from the time we were bombarded by our stylists to after the parade. And I was too tired after that to even think about food. So I order some shrimp with an array of dipping sauces. I sit on my bed, playing with the window screen, as I eat them.

Even when I'm done, no one's come to get me yet. So out of boredom I go back to the mirror in the bathroom. I braid my hair in a side ponytail. It looks like the ones Brittany and I would give each other when we were younger. (Another compliment to Katniss.) I leave it in, glad to see me looking more like myself. Instead of that bird creature from last night. Now I appear almost… happy. Almost. I still can't manage a genuine smile.

I hear a knock on my door, "Hurry up Sandbags! We don't have all week!" Sue yells at me through the door. But she's right; I literally _don't_ have all week.

Once again I have to shake these grim thoughts out of my head. _You're going to win, Santana. You're going to win._

I open the door and Sue's gone. Heading into the dining room, I find everyone already there. Talking and eating breakfast. I guess I was supposed to come in here without someone getting me. Although there are no serving dishes on the table, a long buffet is set up to the side. I doubt that my shrimp will agree with any of these other foods, but I'm still hungry. So I load my plate with four large pancakes, drizzle them with strawberry syrup, and top them with sliced strawberries and bananas, raspberries, and blueberries.

As I take my place at the table, no one bids me good morning. Not that I should expect anyone to. Jesse needs to focus on intimidating the rest of the tributes, and Sue… well I doubt she's ever told _anyone_ "good morning."

After Sue's had her fill of some kind of odd protein shake, she leans forward on the table, "Let's get down to business pansies. First question: Are you two going to train together, or separately?"

I'm about to say that I don't care about being trained together when Jesse speaks.

"Separately." He says.

I give him a questioning look. What, does he have some special skill he doesn't want me to know? I doubt it. I've seen him all the time in the District 2 training center. Swords are his best weapon, especially if they're in pairs. He can throw a spear. And he can toss an axe or a knife fairly well. He picks up on my confusion, "Come on, Santana. There's only one victor, right?" he's voice is creepily smooth when he says this. And a smirk creeps onto his face when he sees my disgust.

"Right." I say, wanting to move on. I know I can't get too angry at him, and he knows this too. Our first night on the train, he told me he knew why I volunteered. He told me he knew about Brittany.

_It's after Sue's five hour long rant on how weak, pitiful, etc. we are and I'm opening the door to my room. I hear a cough and see Jesse leaning against the wall._

"_We should talk." He says._

_I knit my eyebrows together, "Why?" I ask._

"_Because intuition tells me that a little girl with a weakness that's plain as day isn't someone the Careers want in their midst." This sentence flows out of his mouth, he's rehearsed it. He's known for a while. "You see Santana, I know all about that daft blonde you have waiting for you back home. I know the Career pack could not induct you and wait to make your death gruesome and painful to make sure that blondie's weeping hysterically back home. And I know you, Santana. I know you believe joining the Careers is you're best chance at survival. And you're right. So as long as you do what I tell you to… like protect me during a fight or go after a specific tribute, you won't have to worry about them finding out. And we can take down everyone else, and get left as the last two for a clean fight to the finish. What do you say?" he holds out his hand, waiting for me to shake. That ever-present smirk, still as infuriating as ever._

_It's too much to take in. It's too much to accept. _He knows about Brittany, so what?_ Part of my mind says. But the other part knows he'll turn the Careers against me if I don't go along with this. Jesse's obviously going to lead them. And I'm sure they'd jump at the chance to torture a tribute who their leader claims to have beef with. I don't want Brittany to see my death pointlessly drawn out._

_He's still waiting with his hand hanging there in the open. The son of a bitch knows how to blackmail. I reluctantly place my hand in his and we shake hands. "You do know that you're the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth, right?" I ask._

"_Keep it up with the jokes, San. The games could sure use a few laughs." He lets go of my hand and walks to his room. "Good night." He says, before closing the door._

_I'm left in the dim light of the hallway._

"Fan-ta-stic." Sue chimes in, enunciating each syllable and bringing me back to reality. "Now, Boobs McGhee, what are you good for? Besides flaunting your sweater meat in the hopes that it'll distract someone long enough for you to get a knife into them."

Jesse snickers at this I drop my knife and fork on my plate with a clang.

I'm pissed off at this whole situation, at Jesse's douchiness, at Sue's bitchiness, at everything. So, instead of answering her, I say, "We're being coached separately, right? No reason for me to spill all my talents in front of _him_." I get up from the table and toss my napkin down. But before I go, I bend down to Jesse's ear, "See you in training, Pretty Boy." I whisper.

And I saunter back to my room. Once the door's shut I finally break down. My knees don't want to support my weight and my back slides down the wall. I curl up with my knees to my chest and burry my face between them. The tears pour from my eyes and sobs that I try to quiet escape my mouth. All of the despair and hopelessness that's been in me since Brittany's name was reaped finally comes out.

I sit there on the floor for the better part of an hour until finally, I've calmed down. I climb shakily to my feet, relieved to have finally gotten that sadness ridden from my body. The clock reads nine. Even though training doesn't start for another hour, I decide to go down anyway. So I check the nearest mirror, wipe away any remaining tear tracks and make sure my eyes aren't too red or puffy. Then I head out the door and to the elevator without Sue or Jesse.

Artie

After Coin decided to keep me in the games I truly understood that mercy no longer exists in my world.

As soon as all of the tributes were inside the training center, the rest got to go to their apartments while I was wheeled off to their medical operation floor. They took me several floors underground and onto a floor that was nothing but white. White tiled floors and ceilings, white counters, white doors, white tables, and so many people in white lab coats ready to rewire me.

They must have finished during the night and brought me here, to my quarters in the apartment, sometime later. I'm lying under the covers of my bed, unmoving. I can feel the light pressure of the sheets on my legs and the temptation becomes too much.

One by one, I curl my toes. I can't believe it! I bend my knees and sit up. I turn and swing my legs over the side of the bed. And once I'm standing, I stop. Sure, this is amazing. I can walk again! But it's not a miracle. In a way it's torture. I take a step and immediately don't like the way it feels. It doesn't feel like I'm in completely in control of my movements. Like they just stuck some robot device in me that assumes what I want my legs to do and a guy behind a desk is controlling it.

This thought terrifies me. What if I'm running for my life in the games and the guy decides to slow down my legs? This may seem kind of out there. But I don't count anything about the government out now.

Finn

After having jets of freezing cold water blast all over me in the shower and having my hair accidently crimped so much it sticks straight up at the mirror this morning, I know that that was probably as good as my day's gonna get.

And I'm proven right at breakfast. First I eat so much I feel sick which I know won't go well with running around and throwing weapons. And my district partner, Cinder, is a fifteen year old who's determined to avoid me. She even asks our mentor to be coached separately. But my worst problem _is_ my mentor. He's this loud guy who wears pastel button up shirts with matching sweaters tied around his shoulders and he offers us morphling like all the time.

Sandy Ryerson. I know this guy will be no help. He's insane.

At nine we begin the descent in the elevator to the training rooms. Even though we're an hour early, some of the tributes are already here. Just from a random sweep of the room, I can see the pair from 1, the girl from 2 (strange, usually all the Career tributes stick together), both from 4, and both from 8.

A trainer comes over to us and tells us to sit anywhere until all of the tributes are here. Cinder immediately walks off and sits on an empty bench in the corner. I don't want to sit next to her, but I also don't want to be by myself. I know most tributes avoid the rest (like Cinder) but I'd like to have a friend here, at least for a little while.

So I go to a bench to the right and sit down next to the guy from 8. His district partner is standing in the shadows, trying desperately to be out of sight.

"Hi." I say quietly.

He manages to force an uncomfortable smile. Then I notice his eyes drifting to my hair. His eyebrows knit together as he tries to understand why I would crimp my hair. I laugh.

"I'm guessing you didn't _quite_ figure out the box at the mirror?" he says.

"Yeah. After I got blasted with freezing water in the shower, I was too mad to notice what I was doing." We both laugh at this.

"I know," he gives me a genuine smile this time, "When I was in there, it gave me a _chocolate_ scented wash and a brush that felt like it was made of splintered wood. I'm Blaine by the way." He extends his hand.

"Finn." I say, shaking his hand.

"I like your costume last night." He says.

"Please, it was completely stupid. They had me dressed like a lumberjack from District 7."

"You are from District 7, but I know what you mean. We're from the Capital, not the districts, even if they call us that. I don't understand why they couldn't come up with better ideas that trees for 7 and threads for 8."

I laugh, but before I can continue our conversation, I see the pair from 12 has arrived. I don't look at the boy long enough to register his appearance, but I notice the girl. Rachel.

She's short, possibly a foot less than me. She has tan skin and glossy brown hair that falls around her shoulders with bangs that reach her eyelashes. And a sad expression on her face that seems like it should be smiling all the time. I got a glimpse of her last night and my jaw dropped, but that was mostly because of the costume. Then, she looked like some astonishing creature made of untouchable light that would dissipate if I tried to touch it. (I think I just used all of my vocabulary in that one sentence.) Now that she's here without it, she looks more human, real, but every bit as stunning.

I shake my head, ridding my mind of these thoughts. _She's your competitor, Finn. She's not going to be your girlfriend._ My head's right. I have to focus. I turn back to Blaine, but see he's distracted by something too. I follow his eyes over to the bench next to us. It's where Rachel and her partner are sitting. I frown; he's taken an interest in her too. I quickly toss out whatever idea I had of us becoming allies and stare straight ahead.

_Maybe it's best to go solo._

Blaine

After all the tributes arrive, Atala, the head trainer, gathers us around in two circles. The girls – evenly spaced – in a circle around her. And the boys, behind their district partners, in a larger circle. She starts explaining the training schedule. There are various stations set up throughout the gymnasium. Experts in each skill will remain there. We are allowed to roam freely from area to area, following our mentor's instructions. There are stations for survival skills and fighting techniques. But it's forbidden to fight any other tributes; there are assistants ready if we want to practice with a partner.

As Atala goes through the list of stations, I glance around the boys and realize I'm the shortest. First, I look at the boy from 1, Sebastian; he has a smug look on his face, like he finds all of our terror amusing. The boy from 2, Jesse, doesn't look much different, except maybe more vicious. Artie from 3 _stands_ there, stiff as a board, he must have had his operation last night. Four taps his foot nervously. The one from 5 seems to keep his eyes on his district partner. Six, however, appears to be listening to what Atala has to say with a coldness to his facade. Finn, standing beside me, looks pretty ticked off. Which I don't understand. He seemed fine when I talked to him earlier. On my other side, the boy from 9 keeps his face rid of all emotion. The boy from 10 keeps his head down. The boy from 11, his eyes flit around nervously. But when I look at Kurt, the boy from 12, I'm surprised to see his eyes on me too. But when he realizes I've noticed, his eyes quickly go back to Atala, and he's blushing furiously.

I ponder reasons why he would be staring at me and come up with: He was deciding if I'd be a good ally. Atala's finished talking and we're free to roam the stations. I look to Finn, ready to ask him if we could train together, but he's already sprinting towards the fire starting station. I guess teaming up isn't his style. So I decide to go to the one station I might know something about, hand-to-hand combat.

Kurt

We may have been two of the brightest stars at the tribute parade, but here, with all the other tributes, Rachel and I are about as dull as unsharpened pencils. We had our moment in the sun, but now it's time to step off the pedestal and focus on our survival.

Mr. Shuester told us that it'd be good to stick together in training and focus on valuable skills we don't know. _That should be easy because we don't know any._ So when Atala dismisses us, Rachel and I head toward the edible plants. I fly through, only confusing two together. And Rachel manages to pick up pretty quickly, only missing three by her fourth try.

We learn how to start fires easily. And Rachel is able to scurry up the ladders, nets, and fake trees in the climbing station. I'm not as good as her, but master tree-climbing within an hour.

At lunch, we sit together and converse about our new skills, the other tributes, and who we've noticed the most. Rachel noticed Jesse from 2 mauled every dummy with a pair of swords in that section, Andrea from 4 could lodge an axe into a dummy's chest from a good distance away, and Finn from 7 seemed to do well with a sword. She also seems intent on making him an ally.

I ask her to wait at least until tomorrow and tell her who I've pegged as dangerous. Sebastian from 1 who throws spears at any distance, Santana from 2 who slashes a whip like crazy, and Karofsky from 6 who tore down dummies left and right with a pair of axes. I don't mention Blaine, who always seemed one station behind us, to her, deciding to bring him up when we look for allies tomorrow.

After lunch, we tie knots until we master a good bit of them. And try the whips as our final class of the day and fail miserably. Me, knocking over a stand full of bow and arrows. And Rachel, not even making her's crack. Santana finds this amusing and shows us she can hit each dummy on target, wrap it around their ankles, yanking them up from the ground, so they fall on the floor, and strangle them with it when she wraps it around their necks. She smirks at us as she sets the weapon back on its rack.

She's _definitely_ one to watch out for.

* * *

A/N: So we know who to watch out for and who Rachel and Kurt seem bent on joining forces with, but do you think Blaine and Finn will? And what about Finn thinking Blaine took a special interest in Rachel? And what about Artie's operation? Do you think he's right, that someone else is controling his legs? What if he needs to make a quick getaway in the games?

Review! And remember to let me know who you think will win! (I could have some surprise ending where Katniss breaks down and orders them to shut down the games so everybody lives!)

Don't count on that, though.


	7. Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Part 2

A/N: Here's another chapter for you. Just another training day. In this chapter the alliances are set in stone. No more questions on who'll team up with whom after this. Oh, and in case anyone is wondering who the mentors are, here's a list:

1. Dustin Goolsby 2. Sue Sylvester 3. Holly Holiday 4. Roz Washington 5. Shelby Corcoran 6. Ken Tenaka 7. Sandy Ryerson 8. Shannon Beiste 9. Carl Howell 10. Emma Pillsbury 11. April Rhodes 12. Will Shuester

Now you know why some tributes won't make it that far… it's because they have crappy mentors.

Enjoy!

* * *

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Part 2

Rachel

After I have a shower with a gentle water pressure and unscented soap, I program the box at the mirror to straighten my hair, and I tie it into a tight ponytail with my bangs still loose. My training clothes are already set out so I throw them on.

I open my door and head to the dining room. At the breakfast buffet, I fill my plate with sausage and fried eggs that I coat in maple syrup (although I am a vegan, I'm trying to adjust my diet to help me adapt easier in the games, no matter how much it pains me). I sit down and begin eating, not bothering to wait for Kurt or Mr. Shuester. Once I finish this plate, I go back and fill a second with bacon and eggs that I stuff into a biscuit along with some cheese. By the time I finish this, Kurt and Mr. Shuester walk in.

Once they're done eating we get down to business.

"So, did you notice anyone yesterday?" Mr. Shuester asks us.

I have to resist the urge to start babbling about Finn by biting my tongue. So Kurt gives a brief on the tributes we discussed yesterday.

"Well, both from 1 and 2 are obvious Careers," explains Kurt, "and so is the girl from 4."

"Not the boy?" Mr. Shuester asks.

"No," I say, "I talked to him for a few seconds at lunch yesterday. Sam's nice."

_My hand reaches for the tuna salad but stops when I see another headed for the same spoon._

"_Oh, you can go ahead." The boy from 4 says, smiling. He waits for me to get my share._

"_Thank you." I say, trying to hurry as he waits. "I'm surprised you actually let me go first, considering what could happen if we cross paths like this in a week or so." I say, moving to scoop a spoonful of almonds on to my plate._

"_I don't think the Gamemakers'll put a bowl of tuna salad with one spoon in the arena." He says, smiling with an unusually large, but still cute, mouth. I laugh and he extends his hand that isn't holding his plate. "I'm Sam Evans."_

"_Rachel Berry." I say, shaking his hand._

"_Well Rachel, my real answer to your question is this: Just because I'm in the games, doesn't mean I've lost my manners. And I'm not gonna hurt anyone unless they try to hurt me, and that doesn't mean I have to kill anyone either."_

_I remain quiet as he allows me time to ponder his ideas. "Wisely said. I wish I could be as kind as you towards the others." I glance towards the Careers' table._

"_Nah, if I met a Career in the arena, you can bet I'll put up a fight. But if it's anyone else… I'll turn the other way." He gives me one last smile before joining Artie and Mike at a table in the corner._

_I stand there, thinking about what he said. Does Sam really want to stay true to himself, even if it means him dying? Could I be civilized enough to maintain my morals when me living means twenty-three others dying?_

_I try to find the right answer to this question when someone shoves me to the side and causes half of my food to fall off my plate._

"_Move it Dwarf, your hogging half the buffet!" Santana snaps at me before dumping various spoonfuls of food onto her plate. The Careers back at her table all laugh and high five her when she goes back to her seat._

"Well, do you think he'll be interested in becoming an ally?" Kurt asks.

I shake my head out of the encounters and answer Kurt, "Maybe, but I think he's leaning towards Artie, the one that had the operation, and Mike, from 's who he was eating with." I say.

"Anyone else you're thinking about?" Mr. Shuester asks.

"Not really." Kurt says, but I can see something in his face that lets me know he's not telling the truth. I wait to talk to him about it later, not in front of Mr. Shuester.

"Finn, the boy from 7, maybe… as an ally." I try to say nonchalantly, without blushing. But I must not be doing too well because Kurt's looking at me like _What are you hiding?_

"Later." I mouth to him.

"Okay, during today's training, I want you two to split up and talk to the other tributes. Then meet back at lunch, and stick together for the rest of the day." He looks at us both, until we nod in approval.

It makes me nervous to think about talking to the other tributes, especially if they prove to be worse than Santana. But if it's mandatory to my survival, I might as well be quiet and go with it.

Kurt

When Rachel mentioned Finn, I knew something was up. I caught him staring at her a couple of times yesterday, but I didn't think she was staring too. He could be a good ally, but I don't want anything to happen to Rachel. I mean, who knows what's on this guy's agenda or why he's taken a special interest in her?

Rachel and I show up for training about twenty minutes before ten. Even so, we're only third to last to get here. We're told to gather in the circle with the rest of the tributes and wait for the others.

Once we're all assembled, Atala tells us the Gamemakers will be observing us this session (no pressure), and then dismisses us.

Before Rachel leaves, she turns to me, "Who are you gonna talk to first?" she asks.

"Umm… I don't know…" I say, even though it's a total lie. I know exactly who I'm gonna talk to. And he's walking towards the knife throwing section right now, "I'm thinking of trying out knife throwing… and then just see who I meet there." I say as nonchalantly as I possibly can.

"Oh, so you're just picking that section at random?" she asks slyly.

"Yeah…" I raise my eyebrows at her. _Don't let her be on to me!_

"And that has nothing to do with the fact that the boy from 8, who you stared at all day yesterday, is over there right now?" she can't help but grin, "Admit it Kurt! You _like_ him."

"Okay I do!" I say reluctantly, "But so what?" I cross my arms in from of my chest, mad that she's keeping me here when I could be talking to him right now! "Like you're one to talk. I saw you staring at that Finn guy yesterday! And the way you said his name this morning…" now it's my turn to look smug.

She frowns at me, puppy dog eyes and all. And I'm about to go get her a tissue, for fear that she's gonna start crying again.

"Kurt," she says, "let's not waste our time on this. I mean it's not like anything's gonna happen while we're _here_." She gestures to the whole training center, "We should just…" now I know she's gonna cry, "follow Mr. Shuester's instructions, for now." She turns and walks away. And I know she's trying not to let the other tributes see her tears.

Knowing that there's nothing I can do, I turn and walk towards the knife-throwing section. I still want to at least talk to Blaine. But as I start making my way over there, I'm surprised to see Peeta Mellark staring at me. Then his eyes quickly flit away. Has he been there the whole time, listening to me and Rachel? He's a good distance away; he looks like he could be observing any of the tributes. But he wasn't. He was staring at _us_.

Blaine

After Atala dismisses us, I decide to try my hand at knife throwing. I was good at hand-to-hand combat yesterday, but I still want to pick up some kind of lethal skill.

When I arrive I see that I'm the only one there. Strange, usually the Careers are at stations like this, showing off their strength. But I'm pretty sure none of them have mastered this particular skill.

I walk over to an attendant and ask him if he'll help me. He frowns, yawns, but gets off the dummy he's leaning on and grabs a collection of knives. They're all pure platinum, with centered tips and black leather handles. He hands one to me and tells me how to hold it, by the handle or the blade (I choose the handle), tells me how much force to put into the throw, and where to aim. With one swift motion the blade has left his hand and is lodged deeply into one of the bullseyes.

"Just like that." He says and slaps me on the back – rather hard.

I shake his hand off and aim my knife at a dummy a few feet away. I attempt the same move he did and my knife smacks its whole side into the dummy's legs before falling to the ground with a clang.

"Yeah, good job." The guy says distractedly and goes back to his leaning against his dummy.

I hear snickering behind me and see some of the Careers – Santana and Sebastian – grinning like sharks. Pissed, I grab another knife and throw again. This time it's with too much force and no accuracy. It misses the dummy completely as it flies and smacks against the wall, then the floor.

"Can I see one of those?" I hear someone say. I expect to see a Career beside me, ready to show me up. But instead, I see Kurt. I feel my heart pause, then beat furiously. _He asked you a question, Blaine._ My brain reminds me. "Sure." I say.

He grabs one from the same assortment that I'm using and holds it daintily. "Now what?" he asks.

I find myself unexpectedly laughing. He smiles too. Then we remember our situation, one that has no room for joy, and immediately stop.

"Umm…" I say, and explain what the attendant guy told me.

"So I just umm… let it fly?" he asks.

I shrug in response and he takes a moment, then 'let's it fly.' For a moment, we both expect to hear the ring of metal on tile, but when none comes, Kurt looks at the dummy's chest and his eyes widen. I follow his gaze, blushing because I watched only his face while he threw, and find the knife. There it is, sunk halfway into the location of it's should-be heart.

"Do that again." We're both startled out of our stupor by Finn, who seems to come out of nowhere.

"I don't think I can." Kurt says, already inching away from the weapons. "That was just beginner's luck."

"Just try." Finn says.

Kurt pauses, but eventually reaches for another blade, "Okay…"

He resumes a stance, raises his arm, and focuses on his target – a bullseye about ten feet to the left of where we are. Another swift toss, the knife submerges in the dead center.

Silence.

"Let's hope you're that lucky in the arena." Finn smiles and leaves us for the camouflage station.

I find it strange that someone would compliment another tribute's skills. I thought that if anyone showed skill, they were immediately seen as a target. Just to verify this, I glance at the Careers. Luckily, they haven't checked back to this section since my failure. _Good._ I think. I don't want Kurt to be picked off immediately. I look at him, unsurprised to find him nervously looking around. He doesn't want anyone to know his trade either. Which I don't blame him for. If I had any kind of skill, I'd want to keep it hidden too.

He finally realizes that no one has noticed his perfect aim with the knives and quickly regains a normal air.

"So," he raises his eyebrows at me, "Do you have any aptitude with a sword?"

"I don't know." I say, sheepishly, "I've never used one."

"Well then, let's go find out." He takes my hand and we walk to where the District 1 girl, Sugar, is flaunting her skills with the blade.

We each ask an attendant to spar with us. Kurt looses each time, being knocked down and fake-stabbed each time. But I manage to win over half. I'll be able to defend myself with a sword and Kurt can protect himself with some knives.

Even though we don't speak until lunch, it goes without saying. Kurt Hummel from District 12 has found an ally in me, and I in him.

Finn

Once it becomes clear that I'm the third wheel at the knife throwing station, I decide to learn a survival skill: camouflage. I'm somewhat surprised to see that I can create simple disguises to cover shelters with fairly well. But I can't paint patterns like tree bark or leaves on the forest floor that well on my skin.

As I lean over the table, attempting to perfect a simple leaf on my forearm, I hear someone beside me. They put their arm on the table, like me, and begin dabbing themselves with paint. I look up to see who it is, but end up regretting it. Because it's Rachel. And since it's in my DNA to do something stupid at almost every opportunity, I manage to knock over my paint. Which ends up spilling on the floor, but not before it splatters both of our pants legs. She stares up at me, her eyes a little wide (from anger or annoyance, I'm not sure), and her jaw somewhat dropped. I take in her expression for an inappropriate number of seconds before coming back to reality.

"I am _so sorry_!" I say, bending down to pick up the dish. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry…" I grab one of the clothes off the table and try to mop up the paint from the floor. This doesn't help at all; if anything it just spreads the color farther. "I didn't mean to get any one you." I gesture to her legs, which are now partly greenish-brown, and her boots that the paint completely coated. With a lapse in thinking, I actually start to rub the rag on her boots. Smearing, and causing me to seem twice as stupid as I am, which was already beyond any normal limit.

At least she has some common sense. She shows this by taking a step away from my inept hands. "It's okay." She says. And I finally quit making a bigger mess. "It's just a little paint." She crouches down so she's eye level with me, who's still on my hands and knees.

We spend a minute like this, on the floor, staring into each others' eyes. The sparkle in her's never fading. I'm frozen there, probably drooling like an idiot, unable to look away.

And the moment I see her lean _ever so slightly_ forward, Atala announces it's time for lunch.

_Damn._

Rachel gets up and I'm shaken partly out of my daze. We stand there for a few awkward seconds, "I'm sorry… again… for the… the paint." I say, trapped in a world where she _did _kiss me.

"Yeah, and I'm sorry for… for… _that_." She says carefully choosing her words. Because there is no right one to describe what just happened.

Luckily, her district partner has picked this moment to show up. And he's carting Blaine around by the hand. "Rachel, come on. They have lemon squares today!" and they wait for her to join them.

She turns to me, that brilliant smile on her face, "Do you have anyone to sit with?"

Quinn

After the Careers saw me shoot arrows the first day of training, they asked me to join before the first hour was over. It took until lunch for Puck to convince them to take him. It's obvious that Jesse's leading us and Sebastian and Santana share second in command. So far, no one's doubted that Puck and I aren't one hundred percent cold-blooded killers. So the plan seems to be working smoothly. And I think we've all silently agreed that Sugar will be the first one of us we kill.

Our group is complete with eight tributes. Sebastian can throw spears from any distance and can fend pretty well with a sword. Sugar is okay with a sword, but she can carry our stuff. Jesse turns into a monster when he's given a pair of swords, and he can throw a spear, axe, or knife. Santana can tangle up anything in a whip, shoot targets with a blowgun, and throw knives. Andrea from 4 is wicked with a throwing axe. I can shoot anything from any distance with perfect accuracy with a bow and arrow. Puck fights best with a sword and is just as good as Sebastian. And there's Harmony, who can fight with a knife as if it was a sword.

When I get up from the table for another drink, I glance around the room at the other tributes. About half of them are scattered, eating alone. But I see the boys from 3, 4, and 9 all eating together, and they actually seem to be having a good time. And there are the boys from 7 and 8 with the pair from 12, I'm worried about them. Because they're the second largest group, next to us. And the individual boys have both shown talent in swords and hand-to-hand combat. While I haven't seen the two from 12 demonstrate any lethal skill, they must have something to offer in survival techniques.

I told the Careers that I know a few basic survival skills (Shelby said they'd keep me around longer if I had other things to offer) like building shelter, making fires, and foraging.

I may be a fool, but I actually think I could get out of here alive. With this plan, my skills, the amount of sponsors we could get, and Puck helping me along the way; who's to say I shouldn't be hopeful?

Katniss

Three more days.

Tomorrow is the tribute's private training sessions with the Gamemakers.

The day after that is the interviews.

And the games start the following morning.

Three more days.

* * *

A/N: Get use to a Katniss Kountdown at the end of the next few chapters. Just to review… Careers: Sugar, Sebastian, Santana, Jesse, Andrea, Quinn, Puck, and Harmony… Bros: Artie, Sam, Mike… Ragtag Alliance: Finn, Blaine, Kurt, and Rachel. Solo Tributes with Names: Karofsky, Rory, and David. These alliances are definite and won't be changed until a good while into the games (when people start dying). I hope you all are anticipating the games. And I'd still like to know who you think will win. Review!

Until next time…


	8. Impractical Evaluations

A/N: I'm sorry but once again I rewrote a few chapters. Sorry but I just forget to add some things or go back to try to explain other things, just stuff like that. Luckily, it was only one chapter. So, if you just go back and reread Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Part 1, you'll be caught up for this chapter. In this chapter, we have many things occurring. There's the tributes' private sessions with the Gamemakers, the Katniss/Santana confrontation, and the training scores being revealed. Enjoy!

* * *

Impractical Evaluations

Katniss

Sugar prances into the training center, curtsies, then picks a sword and asks for a partner. A female attended, close to Sugar's height and weight, comes out. I watch with mild interest as Sugar and the woman fight. Sugar wins four out of five and we applaud and dismiss her. She curtsies and exits, with a smile on her face, satisfied that she did a good job of impressing us. I give her a three, mainly because I know she's a Career. The others will probably give her higher, but we'll average them out later.

Sebastian strides in, confident smirk and all, he goes over to the spears and immediately starts hurling them all around the gym. He spears several dummies near him, runs and rips those free, then throws them at targets in several other stations. He continues this for a few minutes then picks a sword and asks for a partner. Sebastian wins four out of five and we dismiss him. I give him a seven.

I actually sit on the edge of my seat for the next tribute. Santana comes in, trying to look confident, but I can pick up the nervousness she carries with her. She looks up at us and her eyes quickly find mine. I give her an encouraging nod, which she seems surprised about, but she regains herself and goes over to the whips. She begins hitting, uprooting, and strangling dummies with it. All the while, she's weaving through equipment, climbing up bars and nets, and cutting flips left and right. She sets the whip down, and selects a few knives. She's limited with these, only throwing them while standing still and at limited distances, but hits each target with accuracy. As she's exiting I write down her training score: twelve.

Jesse comes in and I watch him intently. If he's leading the Career pack, he must be dangerous; I want to know just how much he has over the rest. He picks a pair of swords and asks for a partner. The poor attendant gets beaten all five times. Each fight only lasts for about a minute and ends with the guy on the ground and the point of the swords at his stomach and neck. Jesse throws a few spears, knives, and an axe with accuracy. But it's all too clear he favors the weapon he's best with, the swords. My score for him: one.

The girl from 3 gets a generous four from me. Although all she did was stab things with a knife in a "two worthy" manner.

Artie, however, comes in and selects a blowgun. He manages to shoot it fairly well at dozens of targets all around the gym. But I can tell that he doesn't trust his legs enough to climb over or run through obstacles while doing it. Considering he's only had two days to adjust to his newfound ability to walk (and since I know he's not a Career), I give him an eight.

Andrea hurls heavy battleaxes at targets and chops through dummies. Career… so she gets a six.

Sam comes in and wins four out five sword fights. Not a Career… nine.

Quinn immediately picks up a bow and arrow. She shoots six dummies in the chest, stomach, and head. Then she starts cart wheeling and rolling across the floor, shooting any target perfectly. It's impressive. Even though she is a Career, she has something to get back to. I want her to win if Santana can't, so… she gets an eleven.

Puck first demonstrates an admirable ability to create net traps and camouflage them. Then he wins five out of five sword fights. He slips up during the last two but still manages to win. A Career, but not under normal circumstances… ten.

The girl from 6 I rate generously, giving her a six.

Karofsky, however, is a tornado that barrels through the training center, chopping everything with a pair of axes in elaborate swings and tosses. He's silent, strong, and mysterious. He could be a Career but chooses not to. I can't help but be reminded of Thresh. So I give Karofsky a ten.

The girl from 7 is another sword master. She requests a partner and wins all five fights. Then she demonstrates her survival skills by building a decent shelter and creating a few impressive snares. Nine.

Finn wins four out of five sword fights and shows that he can camouflage a few hunting traps. Eight.

The girl from 8 is pitiful. She's so nervous and untalented that she just tries to treat a few fake wounds and then runs halfway through an obstacle course before giving up and being dismissed. I give her a two.

Blaine proves to be outstanding in hand to hand combat and fends pretty well with a sword. I give him a nine.

The girl from 9, the skinny thirteen year old, actually wins a few fights with a partner in a knife fight. Considering her size and age, I give her an eight.

Mike wins three out of five sword fights and flies expertly through obstacle courses. Eight.

Harmony beats her partner four to one in knife fights and recognizes all the edible plants. But she's a Career… seven.

Rory fails at starting a fire and throwing axes, the only two things he attempted. Pity gets him a three.

The girl from 11 demonstrates her talent with camouflaging and even impresses Peeta, I think. Eight.

David can throw spears fairly well, but it's clear he's limited. Seven.

Then there's Rachel. She's the last female tribute of the day. Most of the Gamemakers are tipsy, bored, or dozing off. Peeta and I may be the only ones fully paying attention. Nevertheless, when she sees that at least someone is paying her mind she walks right over to the slingshots. She begins hitting targets while running around, crawling up fake trees, and dangling from nets. Back on the ground, she selects a few knives and throws them at nearby targets. Nine.

Finally the last of the tributes comes, Kurt. He goes over to the knives, selecting a wide variety. He goes over to the moving dummy center and impales them all. He ducks, roles, and climbs over the equipment while sending out knives in all directions. He gets every question correct on the edible plants test, and manages to throw a few heavy weights. Since he's shown diversity in training, has done well here, designed those amazing costumes for the tribute parade (I recently found out), and is intent on helping his friends in the arena, I give him an eleven.

Once Kurt exits, we pool our results and average them. I'm the first to get up and leave. I practically run down the corridors to the elevator. Once I'm in, I push the two button.

When the doors slide open to the sitting room, I see that no one is in this room. I hear movement in the kitchen and find the exact person I'm looking for.

"Can I have a word, Santana?" I ask her, with her back turned to me.

I startle her and she drops the glass she's holding on the counter, causing it to spill its contents over the surface. She turns around to face me, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.

"Are… are you even allowed to be here?" she stutters.

"Probably not." I shrug my shoulders. "But I came here to talk to you about something."

"About what?" she asks, composing herself.

"I don't think you should join the Careers." I say.

There's a long pause as I wait for her to respond. She keeps her face expressionless, staring at the ground.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because it's not a good idea. Santana, they can't be trusted-"

"No, I mean why do you care? Why did you pick me to try to help?"

I'm somewhat taken aback by this. "I don't know… because you looked like you need it." I say.

"Oh. Well, thanks but no thanks. I can make my own decisions on who to team up with. And I don't need you to help me." she turns her back to me and begins cleaning up the spilt drink.

I'm shocked and offended by this. Why won't she let me help her? I could get her farther in the games than the Careers could. I'm a Head Gamemaker. I'm about to protest when she speaks.

"You should leave. My team's gonna be here to watch the training scores. And since you're not supposed to be here…" she gestures to the door.

"Fine." I snap. And I stomp towards the door, slamming it on my way out.

Santana

After Katniss leaves, I break down. _Why are you so stupid? _I scream at myself. _Why didn't you accept her help?_ I punch the counter I'm leaning on and double over, tears spilling over my eyes.

"Well done, Tana." I hear Jesse and immediately snap back up and wipe the tear tracks off my cheeks. I feel him put his arm around my waist. "You were right to turn her away. Now there's no doubt in my mind that you're on my side." He pulls away and begins walking to the sitting room. "We're gonna go far in these games together." He says.

"That's what I'm afraid of." I mumble quietly, before joining him on the couch to find out the training scores.

Sue comes in moments later and we wait. The television sparks to life and Ceaser Flickerman begins some speech about how talented all the Capital kids are and how he's looking forward to interviewing us tomorrow night. _Crap._ I forgot all about those. But when you're trying to appear deadly to the core, being blackmailed, and fighting with your idol, these things slip your mind. But this public appearance might still help me refine my Career exterior.

"Now for the training scores!" Ceaser says.

A picture of Sugar appears on the screen, she's smiling and I think I could count all her teeth if I had the patience (or interest). You could land a hovercraft on those things. "From District 1… Sugar… a training score of seven." I have to smirk at this. I expect Sugar to be the worst of all the Careers. She's probably below us right now, stomping around and claiming she should've gotten a twelve.

Sebastian's face comes on, the first of many arrogant smirks on that screen tonight. "From District 1… Sebastian… a training score of ten." I expected that.

Now it's my turn. I hold my breath as my face comes up. I have a slight smirk, but otherwise my face is cold. _Where do they get these pictures? I don't remember taking any._ "From District 2… Santana… a training score of ten." I let out my breath. Good, usually the Careers get eight through ten. But of course I have to compare myself to Katniss and think I deserved an eleven.

Rachel

The big scary guy from 2, Jesse, gets a ten. This seems usual, for all the Careers to get high scores. But I have to laugh when I think about Sugar reacting to that seven.

The 3 girl gets a two. While Artie manages a six.

Andrea gets a nine and Sam, I'm happy to find, is given an eight.

Quinn must have demonstrated her archery skills to get a ten. But Puck only manages a nine.

The pair from 6 shows a great contrast. The girl, with only a four. But Karofsky has a ten.

Finally, they're to District 7. The girl gets an eight. I hold my breath when Finn's face comes into view. "From District 7… Finn… with a score of eight." Kurt and I give each other relieved smiles.

Now it's District 8, Kurt's turn to be worried. The girl gets sad two. Kurt leans forward as Ceaser talks, "From District 8… Blaine… with a score of eight." We both relax. Both of our allies have good scores. Now all me have to worry about is ours.

The tiny girl from 9, surprisingly, gets a six. Mike collects a seven.

Harmony obtains a nine, while Rory only acquires a four.

The small girl from 11 is given a three, and David manages a seven.

It's my turn. My picture fades in, "From District 12… Rachel… with a training score of seven." Not as bad as I thought, I'm actually proud of myself for making at least that. I look at Kurt. He smiles and nods at me, but he's pale. The anticipation is clearly getting to him. I squeeze his hand for reassurance.

Kurt

"Finally, from District 12… Kurt… a training score of ten."

Ten? Ten. Ten! I got a ten? Why did the Gamemakers give me a ten? At first I'm happy, Mr. Shuester and Rachel each hug me and start congratulating me. But then I think about the Careers. Only two tributes got tens and aren't in the Career pack. Karofsky, who they'll probably go after later in the games. And me, frail, tiny, me. I know I've just been made a target. And one can only assume I'm high up on that hit list.

Katniss

Two more days.

Tomorrow night's the interviews.

The games start the following morning.

Two more days.

* * *

A/N: What did you think? By the way, don't worry about Katniss getting back at Santana and making her life an even bigger hell in the arena. That won't happen. But Kurt and his gang are in trouble with the Careers for those training scores.

Following the Katniss Kountdown, there are only two chapters until the actual games begin! They will be the interviews and the night before the games, when everyone's getting all emotional. Or if you like, I could just morph those two together. But I have to warn you that I have exams all next week so I'll be studying and probably won't get to post the games until the 1st of June or so. I'd still like to know who you guys think or hope will win. Also, the tribute parade drained my fashion ideas for a while, so if you have any suggestions or requests for the interview outfits, I'm all ears.

Thanks for all reviews, please continue with them!

Special shout out to Fluteorwrite, PenMagic, and FrankieFan1993! You guys are my most frequent reviewers! Thanks for all of them and please keep it up!

Bye!


	9. Make An Impression

A/N: Hey! So this is the last chapter before the games. And it is also the longest chapter to date. This chapter contains all the interviews and the Rag Tag Alliance's last moments together before the games. Emotions are heightening in this chapter and you'll hear everyone's final thoughts on their predicament. I worked really hard on this chapter, so please let me know what you think of it.

Enjoy!

* * *

Make An Impression

Santana

"Let's hear it for your Master of Ceremonies… Ceaser Flickerman!" the announcer guy shouts. Ceaser gets up and starts bowing while the audience roars with applause. His color this year is gold, probably because of Katniss's mockingjay pin that is now the symbol of the country. So his hair looks solid gold, like you could break your knuckles if you tried to punch it, and his lips appear to be coated in liquid metal. He still wears his midnight blue suit with the tiny, twinkling bulbs. Like thousands of stars.

His ceremonial suit resembles my own dress tonight in some ways. My dress is skin tight (I can hardly ever breath in the clothes they give me), strapless with a low dip in the center that shows plenty of cleavage, and flares out from my knees to the floor in sheets of fabric that dance around me. It's the darkest shade of black and has millions of shinning, white microscopic gems that catch the light with every move. In the chariot, I was a bird, ready to take flight and leave everything behind. Tonight on stage, I am the night, a woman made of nothing but mystery and magic.

The stylists are still trying to make Jesse and I match. He has a suit made of the same blackness and gems. But he just looks like Ceaser's son.

We, the tributes, sit in an arc of chairs around the back perimeter of the stage. Two large chairs are placed near the front. One, Ceaser will always accommodate, and the other, the tributes will be swapped out of every three minutes.

I can see the balcony on the side of a high-rise where the Gamemakers sit. Katniss is up there now, probably glaring down at me with fury. I was so stupid not to accept her help. Jesse's probably not going to stay true to his word. I've ruined everything. Whatever chance I had of getting back to Brittany is swiftly evaporating.

The interviews have started when Sugar jumps up from her seat and prances to the front of the stage to sit with Ceaser. She's been dressed in a bubblegum pink gown with a hoop skirt. There are petals of fabric in lavender and mint green that decorate the full skirt. Once again, she looks like a cupcake. I look over a Sebastian, to see if they are dressed alike. They are. For Sebastian has on a lavender suit with mint green vest and a bubblegum pink tie and flower in his lapel. I smirk at how stupid he looks.

All the stylists have made their tributes match, I note. It must be because we all came from the same place, we should be united. But we aren't. We're as divided as you can get.

Sugar's interview angle is flirty and charmingly stupid. She does well with her presentation and then its Sebastian's turn. He's ruthless and cunning. It would be funny to watch someone in a pastel colored suit try to be deadly. But I know that under all those girly colors, he's coldblooded to the core.

The buzzer sounds and his time is up. I climb shakily to my feet and start walking to the front. I past Sebastian, who glares at me, and finally reach Ceaser.

"Well, look at you!" Ceaser says as I sit down.

I smile; a fake one with teeth.

"So, Santana… you looked incredible at the parade, and now you sit here, even more breathtakingly beautiful." The crowd starts cheering and applauding. I hear a few wolf whistles. I smile, and the cameras are probably on my stylist. "What do you think of these costumes?"

I try to turn the answer away from the costumes and instead to me, "Well, the creature who I transformed into couldn't be more menacing. You probably wouldn't want to cross her." I say, trying to make myself lethal.

"Will we see her in the arena?" he asks.

"Oh, definitely." I say, "Her wrath cannot be contained. I hate to think of the ones who'll find themselves in her path."

"Well I say they should make it a point of avoiding you."

"Yes. I'm here to win." I say, glancing back, threateningly, at the other tributes.

"That's right. You volunteered!" Ceaser says, "How courageous of you! You are looking forward to all that glory if you win?"

"_When_ I win, you mean," this earns a holler from Ceaser and applause from the audience. This is actually working. "And yes, I am looking forward to it."

"You really want to get back home, for all of that fame and splendor?"

"Of course." I say, but I'm only answering honestly to the first part of his question. I don't care about fame or money. I only care about Brittany. "Who doesn't want that?" I say, raising my eyebrows.

"I can't think of anyone!" he says, smiling. The gold on his lips stretching. "And what about that ten in training!" more applause from the crowd. "How did you come by that?"

"I can't tell you in front of the others," I say, gesturing behind me. "They'll have nightmares before the real fun's even started!" Ceaser hollers one more time as the audience erupts with applause and laughter. "But you'll see soon enough." I say. "Look for me in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia!"

"You'll be at the center of my attention." He says, holding up his right hand. "Good luck to you." He says, getting up from his seat and holding a hand out for me to take. I grab it and he kisses it before raising our hands above our heads. "Santana Lopez!" he shouts and we bow just as the buzzer sounds and the audience is screaming and clapping.

I can hardly hear above the noise but I make out Jesse's name being called and he stares daggers at me as I walk by. I simply smirk at him.

He's interview goes pretty much the same way as Sebastian's. He plays up the ruthless and cunning a little bigger, though, and adds in vicious.

The girl from 3 is nervous and scared. Ceaser is patient and tries to set her at ease. But by the end of the interview, she's already forgotten.

Artie walks, uneasily, to the front of the stage. His legs buckle and stumble until he's in his seat. He begins his interview with humorous banter with Ceaser and the crowd's a riot. But then, he goes in on how he got paralyzed and what a struggle it's been simply trying to find the will to live. I almost start feeling sorry for him. Then I realize that what he's saying is some rehearsed story he's playing up as a strategy to win over sponsors. Even if I'm not fooled, it works on the rest of the audience. By the time he's done and the buzzer sounds, half of them are in tears, applauding. Even Ceaser wipes a fake tear out of the corner of his eye.

Andrea's interview goes well. But since there're eight Careers, the vicious killing machine angle is bond to get old.

Sam makes playful banter with Ceaser and does impressions of people in the government like Katniss, Peeta, Coin, Effie, even Ceaser. I have to admit he does a very convincing Peeta. The crowd is roaring with laughter by the end of his interview.

Quinn's up next with some sob story about getting pregnant when she was fifteen and giving the baby away. Combine this with the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous in her interview gown and you'll have about five thousand sponsors begging at her front door. I roll my eyes at her and just focus on not falling asleep

"When you were only fifteen?" Ceaser asks, hand on his heart, sorrow on his face.

"Yes. You have no idea how _impossible_ it was for me to make that decision of giving her away." She says.

"How did the father react? Was he supportive of your choice?" he asks, now clutching her hand.

"I'd prefer to let him tell you that."

"I wish I could speak with him. But how will I ever find him?" Ceaser asks.

"Just wait for my buzzer to go off. He's interview's next." She says simply. I sit straight up in my chair and look at Puck. He calmly sits there, nodding to the cameras. The audience has just realized what she means and are all screaming or crying with outrage. It's almost like when Peeta told everyone Katniss was pregnant during the Quarter Quell. Ceaser's face is in complete shock and the buzzer sounds. He stands and grabs her hand, kissing it, and they bow.

Puck gets out of his seat and strides to the front; he pauses while passing Quinn and whispers something in her ear. She glides back into her chair as he sits in his.

"You… and Quinn… have a daughter?" Ceaser asks, still stunned.

"Yeah…" Puck sighs, "Beth."

"Oh, how heartbreaking!" Ceaser clutches onto Puck's hand.

Puck shakes him off and says, "Yeah it was. But now we're here making the most of our time together. And I'd like to just focus on her winning. Not our past." He says in a way that's calm but forceful.

Ceaser obliges and the interview continues without any mentions of his and Quinn's past drama. Puck's interview goes pretty well after that. He appears strong and protective, willing to do anything to get Quinn out of the games alive. Even if that means sacrificing himself.

I'm not sure if what they're saying is all just an act or if it's real. But I do find a truthful sincerity in both of their voices.

This is also another reason I don't need Jesse. Quinn and Puck both have a soft side, something to get back to, and they're Careers. I'm all of those things but I chose to hide them. Why?

Because Jesse said so. That's not an answer. Am I ashamed of Brittany and my relationship with her? Hell no. So why?

Finn

The pair from District 6 doesn't have the best interviews. The girl seems too angry to answer any questions rationally. She's not fierce, like some tributes try to be, she's just angry. And Karofsky keeps his answers short and doesn't try to make jokes with Ceaser or even acknowledge the crowd. The buzzer sounds and Karofsky gets up and goes back to his seat without even bowing with Ceaser.

Cinder gets up and starts her interview. I don't pay attention to her interview. I don't pay attention to anything. I just want time to stop. But of course, whenever someone wishes that, time seems to go by twice as fast. The buzzer sounds and Cinder gets up. I stand and begin walking to the chair beside Ceaser. I try to remember what angle Sandy told me to go with.

"_Dumb!" he told me. "You're charming in that stupid kind of way."_

Dumb. I can do dumb.

Blaine

Finn seems to have trouble with walking across the stage. For a second he's so pale I'm scared he's gonna start hurling right there. But he manages. His interview goes smoothly. He pretends to not know half of what Ceaser is talking about, he makes a few jokes, and puts on a goofy smile that is guaranteed to get him a few female sponsors.

By the end of it, the crowd is laughing, Ceaser's chuckling, and Finn's goofy smile is wider than it's ever been. Except whenever Rachel's around.

Speaking of her. I look to her and Kurt at the end of the row. They seem have enjoyed Finn's interview and are smiling. Kurt must have designed their outfits again because they look marvelous. Kurt has kept it simple in a sharp white suit, but his bow tie is made of that pearly rainbow fabric. He's also gone as far as to put streaks in his hair and Rachel's that reflect the same colors. The strapless bodice of Rachel's dress hugs her figure and is designed in the special fabric. But the full skirt is white with pearls decorating it all over. They both are prizes tonight.

I'm glad I look away from them when I do because the buzzer had just sounded on my district partner. I hop up and go to sit with Ceaser.

Rachel

I'm happy Finn did well with his interview. And Blaine's seems to be going smoothly. But as the night wears on, I become more and more nervous. Normally, I don't have a problem with being on stage; I'm terrific when I'm up there. But now that I'm here, and something's actually at stake, I'm petrified. This is my last attempt at rounding up sponsors before the games start. And I can't help but think I'm going to choke.

The buzzer sounds for David as he comes up from his bow. I look at Kurt, who gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and begin the walk to Ceaser.

Once I'm seated, I relax. I try to forget what's at stake and just focus on answering Ceaser's questions in a winning fashion.

"Miss Rachel Berry…" Ceaser says, "How is your visit here in District Thirteen so far?"

"It's been lovely." I lie, flashing a smile, "I earned a seven in training, which is great compared to the score I thought I'd receive."

"I seriously doubt you could have made a low score." He says.

"Well I certainly did." I say. Ceaser laughs at this and gets some of the audience to join in too.

Then I realize that I'm boring. I have to draw their attention away from me. I can't talk about myself if I want this interview to even appear to be good. "And look at the outfits I get to wear!" I say, picking up my skirt. "Can you believe how gorgeous they are?"

"I cannot!" Ceaser says as the crowd applauds the garment. "Did I hear correct, that stylists didn't even make these? It was your district partner who did all the work?" he asks, gesturing over to Kurt.

"It was! He asks me if he could design my outfit and I immediately said yes!"

"What made you trust him so easily?"

"Well, we've been friends forever, so it's hard not to trust him." I say, smiling.

"Oh, you two were friends prior to the games?" he asks, I nod. "Well, then I'm sorry you two were put into this situation." He pouts.

"Thank you, Ceaser. But I'm happy just to be spending all this time with him now." I say. I make it a point of avoid the phrase "our last days together" because no one wants to hear those kind of things during the interviews. The interviews are always supposed to be fun.

"Can I assume you two will be teaming up in the arena?" he asks.

"Of course! I'm not going to turn into a completely different person and start killing left and right. The thing I'm focusing on in the arena, is not winning, but my humanity." I'm glad I've said this because it earns a tidal wave of cheering from the crowd, and it makes all the Careers look bad.

"That is a noble thing to do, Rachel. I wish you the best of luck." He rises and takes my hand. "Rachel Berry!" he yells and I bow.

The buzzer sounds and I make my way back to my seat. Kurt intercepts me and hugs me tightly.

"Thank you." He whispers above the noise from the crowd. We pull away and go to our respective seats.

I sit down, satisfied with my interview, and look over at Finn and Blaine. They're smiling at me and we all turn back to the front of the stage for Kurt's interview.

Kurt

Finn, Blaine, and Rachel all did well. Now, if I can get through this, the night will be over, we'll all have a decent amount of sponsors, and we might be able to get through the games.

"Kurt, is what Rachel said true?" Ceaser asks, "Are you two really friends?"

"Yes, Ceaser. Rachel's my best friend. I wouldn't turn my back on her ever." I say honestly and powerfully.

"You must be a very loyal person, hmm?"

"You could say that." I nod.

"So you received a _ten_ in training. How does that feel?"

"It's unbelievable. I mean, I have many talents, but those kinds of skills didn't get me that ten. And I'm not telling you what I _did_ do to acquire it." I say, holding a finger out to warn Ceaser.

"Okay, I won't ask!" Ceaser says, holding his hands up in surrender. This earns me some laughter from the crowd. "So what kind of other talents do you have?" he asks me.

"I can twirl batons… I can dance… I can make fabulous ensembles like the ones Rachel and I are wearing…" this earns a ton of applause from the crowd. I look back at Rachel and she too is clapping. "And I can sing."

"Wow. I find it hard to believe all of that is wrapped up inside one person." Ceaser says.

"Well believe it, Ceaser. I would stand up and start wailing right now," the crowd cheers encouragingly, "But!" I yell above their noise making, "I don't think there's enough time left in this interview." The crowd collectively moans disappointedly.

"I'm afraid you're right, Kurt." Ceaser says, "But good luck to you… and I hope to hear that singing voice someday."

"I hope you get to too." I say, smiling.

We stand and raise our intertwined hands above our heads. "Kurt Hummel!" Ceaser shouts. The crowd applauds loudly as I bow.

I make it back to my seat. All of the tributes stand as the new District Thirteen anthem plays. Once it's done, we file off the stage and out the back entrance. There's no crowd back here as each district gets into a car.

Rachel and I, of course, file in last. Once the doors are closed and we pull away from the curb, back to the training center, Rachel squeals. "Oh my gosh, Kurt! That went so well! Your designs were amazing, and we looked fantastic!"

I smile sadly at her. "We made it through the interviews, sure. But what were we really, Rachel?" I ask, her smile disappears and she looks down at her lap. "I'm not trying to be mean, or discouraging, but what were we? Can you remember anything you said on that stage that was worth saying? Do you feel like you were memorable? Cause I sure don't. The only memorable thing about us was our costumes. And I barely got by with making these!" I say.

She starts tearing up. I didn't mean to make her cry. I just want to voice my opinion on this. I just want her to know how desperately useless I feel about our situation. I wrap my arms around her and let her cry on my shoulder. I don't even care if her rainbow eye shadow smudges on it.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. Don't listen to me." I smooth down her hair. "That thing you said about not wanting to lose your humanity, that's what's going to get you sponsors."

"No- no… you're right, Kurt. We were nothing." She chokes out, sobbing even louder.

"Rachel," I say firmly but softly. "Everything's going to be alright. Trust me."

The car comes to a stop in front of the training center. I hand Rachel my handkerchief, she wipes her tears away and regains some composure. We take each other's hands and slide out of the car.

Once we're in the lobby we find Finn and Blaine and jump in an elevator together.

There're hugs exchanged and encouraging thoughts said. We don't push any buttons yet, though.

"First things first." Finn says when I reach for the twelve. "We need to go over the game plan for tomorrow."

"Not get killed." I say, skeptically.

"Well duh, dude." Finn rolls his eyes. "But Blaine and I were actually discussing strategy and tactics and stuff."

"What we were thinking," Blaine says, staring at me, "Is that when the gong sounds at the beginning of the games, you and Rachel run and find cover while Finn and I get supplies."

"No!" I say. "Absolutely not!"

Blaine stares at me, begging me to agree with him.

"Come on Kurt." Finn says, "It's the best way to make sure you and Rachel stay safe."

"Safe?" I yell. "Please. What's going to happen is you and Blaine get yourselves killed in that bloodbath, and the Careers find me and Rachel within a few hours." Rachel starts sobbing again.

"Kurt, just _please_ try to stay positive." Blaine says gently.

This makes me slightly calm. "At least let me try and get supplies too."

"No." Blaine says. "The only thing you can do is throw knives Kurt. And that's a great skill, but what if you can't find any. Finn and I can fight with a sword, or just fight with our hands. But if someone lunges at you, Kurt…" he doesn't finish his sentence. He doesn't have to.

"And Rachel would be alone." Finn says putting a protective arm around Rachel. "She'll need you."

"Fine." I say, through gritted teeth. They're right, I know. But still, I hate the idea of being helpless.

"Okay." Finn says. "Once we rise onto our platforms, Kurt, Rachel, you guys look for each other and find a spot near both of you to run to when the countdown's over. Once you meet up, just keep going. Just keep running and try to find water when you think you're far enough away from the Cornucopia."

"When it gets close to dark," Blaine picks up, "pick a spot, well hidden, and try to get a few hours of sleep. Hopefully, within a day or so, Finn and I will have found you two."

It's silent except for Rachel's crying.

"And what if you can't find us?" I ask bitterly.

"Stay there for the night." Finn says, "You'll know if we're dead by then." This makes Rachel let out a particularly loud sob. I bit the inside of my cheek. Me and Rachel huddle together as we freeze in some bush or tree, staring hopelessly at the faces of the two people we care about most projected on a screen while their bodies are sent back to their families.

Blaine reaches for my hand, "If we are then keep moving Kurt." him telling me this manages to calm me down. I look at him, he's breaking inside, but he's keeping himself together for me. I let the tears I've so desperate to hide brim over.

This causes Blaine to lean forward and wrap his arms around me. I can hear him crying on my shoulder. I glance over at Finn and Rachel. She's fully collapsed into him, weeping on his chest as he hugs her tightly and rests his chin on her head. He's crying too.

We all part from the person we're embracing and Finn leans forward to push the twelve. Obviously he and Blaine need to have a conversation about storming the Cornucopia.

When we feel the elevator push off from the ground at its high speed, Rachel grabs onto Finn's arms and stands on her toes to kiss him. He seems shocked by this at first, but eventually leans in to kiss her back. By the time they've pulled away, the doors have slid open to reveal our apartment. Rachel's now crying more uncontrollably than ever as her and Finn have one final embrace.

Once she's out of the elevator, I whisper to Finn and Blaine a question that's on all of our minds. "If it comes down to it, which one of us four is making it out?"

"I'm sacrificing everything for Rachel." Finn says without hesitation.

"Okay," I say, "She's my best friend; I'm sacrificing everything for her too."

We both look to the only one who hasn't answered. Blaine keeps his eyes locked on me. "If you won't let me get you out of the arena… then I'll help Rachel win." I don't know how I work up the courage to do this. One minute I'm standing there, listening to Blaine's response, and the next, I'm right in front of him, my hands on either side of his face and our lips are pressed together.

We stay in this embrace for some time, and then it's interrupted by Finn's coughing. We reluctantly break apart, tears in both our eyes, and look at an uncomfortable Finn.

I back out of the elevator, and say "See you tomorrow." To both of them before the doors close.

Rachel's probably gone to her bed by now; I'm left in an empty room.

I break. I begin weeping hysterically and start punching the wall as hard as I can. The emotions are too much, and I'm falling apart from the inside out. Everything I've ever felt angry or sad about comes back to me as if it's just happened.

My mom dying.

Kids at school bullying me.

My dad's heart attack.

Rachel's name being reaped.

My name being reaped.

My dad saying goodbye.

Rachel's dads saying goodbye.

The Careers taunting us in training.

The moment I realized I was a target for the Careers.

The four of us in the elevator.

And now the feeling of complete loss of hope.

Katniss

One more day.

The games start tomorrow.

One more day.

* * *

A/N: *Sigh* Now there is nothing left to cover before the games start. And just because I love to torture my readers, you're going to have to wait a while before they do start. I know I'm awful, but I do need to study for my exams.

Let me know your thoughts on Finn and Klaine's plan to get Rachel out no matter what? We know Finn loves her and Kurt will never turn his back on her, he said so in his interview. But is Blaine that loyal? Or will he be blinded by the need to get Kurt out alive.

What about Quinn and Puck now that the Careers know about their past? Will they turn on them, or accept it as a ploy to get sponsors?

And has Santana lost all hope? Or does she still have enough grit to be able to fight her way through her external and internal struggles to win, even if Jesse spills her secret?

I know the answers to all of these questions. Why am I even asking them?

Review! Review! Review!


	10. Let The Games Begin

A/N: I just couldn't do it! As soon as I posted the interviews, I couldn't stop writing this chapter. I had to get it out. So here it is, The 1st Annual Capital Hunger Games!

Enjoy!

And may the odds be ever in your beloved character's favor.

* * *

Let The Games Begin

Katniss

I stand on the raised platform in the Gamemaker's room. We're surveying the arena, looking for any faults or irregularities. The arena itself isn't vast or immense, or tight and small. It's a circle of moderate size, thirty-five kilometers in diameter. We've placed the Cornucopia in the dead center. All of the tributes are equidistant from its mouth, which is pouring with supplies, in a wide arc. Around the tributes and the Cornucopia, it's nothing but a flat clearing. Once you reach these edges there's nothing but trees. The dense forest accommodates three randomly placed freshwater springs and one decent sized pond. And several underground burrows a tribute could camp safely in. The northwestern edge is nothing but a large plain with high grass that ends in a cliff. The southwestern edge is a mountainous area dotted with several caves and a volcano that's dormant (for now). A freshwater lake lies completely on the south side. And in the northeastern edge, there's a wide and long ditch with a river running down its length. We have several species of mutations living in the forest, like a pack of mutated lions, flocks of mockingjays, and several poisonous others. The tributes are already in their underground rooms, their trackers in place, and they're all putting on their clothes for the arena. A rule has been changed, so no one is in their rooms with them. They get sent into and come out of the games alone.

Santana

I'm shaking so uncontrollably that I can barely get into my arena outfit. They've given us normal undergarments, a white tank top, a long sleeved dark green t shirt, simple dark brown pants with a thick belt, skintight white socks, black leather boots, and a hooded black jacket that seems to be reversible. Cold nights and hot days are probably to be expected. I'm shocked when I see the last article of my outfit: my token. It's the topaz ring that Brittany gave me for my birthday last year. I smile and fit the ring onto my left ring finger. Holding my hands to my chest, I let out a long sigh, and brace myself for what Brittany's about to see me do.

A pleasant female voice announces that it's time for launch. I'm still shaking uncontrollably, but I shake myself out and climb onto the circular metal plate. After a few seconds, a glass cylinder is lowered around me. I lift my head up and stare at the ceiling, or the sky, or whatever's up there. Slowly, I begin to rise. For about fifteen seconds, I'm in total darkness, then sunlight pours down on me. The sudden light momentarily blinds me but I can feel wind and smell trees.

Then, the booming voice of Claudius Templesmith echoes all around me, "Ladies and gentleman, let the First Ever Capital Hunger Games begin!"

Kurt

_60… 59… 58…57…_

My heart has already stopped, then beat furiously in a cycle so many times; I expect my heart attack at any moment. I look around, taking note of my surroundings. There are plenty of trees around for cover, Rachel and I might be able to make it away from here.

I turn my eyes away from the forest and onto the tributes. I'm placed near the middle of the arc. The little girl from 11 on my right and Finn's partner on my left. Sebastian's beside the 11 girl. _Crap, a Career._ And next to 7, there's Rory (which I'm fine with) but then Santana's next to him. _Double crap, double Careers._

…_51 …50 …49 …48_

Rachel! I need to find Rachel! I frantically search the other tributes until I find her. I lean forward, careful not to lose my balance and fall, activating the mines. My eyes rake up and down the arc of tributes. There she is! But she's over ten tributes away to my right. I glance at the ones around her. On her right, there's Harmony. _Triple crap, triple Careers._ And on her left, there's Mike. He's teamed up with Sam and Artie, the good guys, so I don't think he'll go after her. But just in case, Blaine's on Mike's other side. _Thank god. _He can protect her if anything goes wrong.

Now, I try to find Finn. I don't have to look far. Going down the line it's Blaine, the girl from 3, Jesse _quadruple crap, quadruple Careers_, the girl from 9, then Finn… then Santana. Finn and Blaine are already engaging in a telepathic conversation so I look to Rachel, trying to do the same. She's already looking at me, terror in her eyes. I nod to a spot at the edge of the woods for us to run to, then back at her. She nods back.

Are plans are all in place.

Quinn

…_42 …41 …40 …39_

I'm the last on the right side of the arc. Sam's next to me; Karofsky is at the left end of the arc. Puck's four away from Karofsky. He gives me a quick nod. It's probably meant to be reassuring, but nothing can comfort me now. I do a quick sweep of the supplies littering the ground around me. There are numerous backpacks thrown about, who knows what's in them. I spot a few weapons, swords, axes, daggers, nothing useful to me. Then I spot exactly what I'm looking for.

A perfect bow and quiver of arrows. All made of some gleaming metal, copper maybe. They're a good thirty yards away. I can make it to them easily. Sam hasn't touched a bow at all in training, and I doubt that the girl from 6 he's next to knows how to use them either. Neither of them will make a mad dash for them.

I position myself in a running stance. I can do this. I can get my weapons. That is, if Karofsky doesn't throw one of those axes he's looking at right now.

Blaine

…_33 …32 …31 …30_

Run. Get the sword that's twenty yards away. Grab no more than three backpacks. Get to the edge of the woods. Find Finn. Run with him to safety in the direction Kurt and Rachel went. Fight only if it's necessary.

This should be simple. This should be easy. But I know it won't be either.

Sugar

…_24 …23 …22 …21_

Dominating this bloodbath might not me so simple. Not with Karofsky right next to me and a pair of axes right in front of him. But I can still do this, right? All I have to do is get the sword that's thirty yards away before anyone swings their blades at me.

I can totally still win.

Sebastian

…_15 …14 …13 …12_

Perfect! Three spears already a few dozen yards away, a lame tribute on my right, the girl from 11, and an ally on my left, Andrea. There's no reason to be nervous.

Santana

…_7 …6 …5 …4 …3 …2 …1_

The gong sounds. I'm ready. I leap from my platform and bolt – as fast as I can – to the Cornucopia. I look around, everyone's doing the same, and we're all a blur. I don't know who's an ally or who's an enemy. I don't need to collect any packs. The Careers always dominate this part of the games. I only stop when I come across a dagger. I unsheathe it, and look for someone to chuck it at. The boy from 10 – Rory or something – bends down a little ways away to grab a pack. Without hesitation, I throw it.

The blade sinks into him, square in the back. He falls forward on the ground. A girl – 7, maybe – runs past him with two packs in hand. She plucks the dagger from his back and runs to the woods.

Now all I'm left with is the stupid sheath. I throw it down and start looking for other weapons. The first thing I come upon is a sword. Not something I'm particularly good with, but all the tributes no I'm a Career so they'll avoid me. This is good because I don't want to kill anyone else today.

Puck

Running off the platform, I grab the nearest weapon, the one thing I'm good with, a sword. The girl from 8 runs to my left and grabs a pack. She sprints to another one but I'm faster. And before her hand wraps around the shoulder strap, the point of my sword's disappeared into her abdomen. I quickly pull it out and look for others to kill and attempt to spot Quinn. But before my foot takes the first step away from her body… an axe flies right in front of my face.

Karofsky

Like I'd ever team up with the Careers. They're all devious, smarter than me, and will probably kill me first because they know I'm the strongest. I have three packs and a pair of matching battle axes. I'll be on my own, and the first step of getting out of this arena starts with me tossing an axe into the guy from 11's back. It sails right in front of that mohawk guy's face. I smile at his scared expression as he darts in the opposite direction. I run to the dead body, yank my axe free, and leave the Cornucopia behind.

I enter the woods and look to my right when I hear someone else moving through the undergrowth. That Kurt kid and his scrawny district partner scramble through the trees, away from me. I could follow them, send an axe flying into each of their backs, but I don't. There's something about Kurt that makes me want to help him survive. Or at least makes me not want to kill him.

Sugar

The bloodbath's almost over. Bodies are strewn across the plain we stand on. I can see Sebastian spearing someone and Andrea's throwing her axe upon someone between two platforms. But not much more is happening.

I still haven't killed anyone yet! I'm about to give up searching for possible victims and just start looking through supplies. But then I see a flash of red dart out from behind the Cornucopia. It's the girl from 9! I start running after her.

She's small, skinny, and she's only thirteen. I can take her for sure. We're about ten yards from the forest when she hears me coming. She turns around and begins running _towards_ me. I'm so taken aback by her sudden action that I stop dead in my tracks. She tackles me to the ground. We start wrestling and rolling around in the grass. That's when I notice she's pulled out a knife. I scream as she tries to stab me. I grab her wrists and try to force her off of me. It's not working. The knife's lowering. It's almost to my skin when I hear a sickening pierce. The girl's body goes rigid, then limp. The knife falls from her hand.

I look up to see my savior, who is probably about to become my murderer.

Harmony's kneeling beside me, cleaning her knife in the grass. She stands as I push the girl's body off of me and sit up.

"I hope you can fight your own battles next time." She says, glaring at me and pointing her knife at my throat. "Cause no one's going to come to your aid then."

Quinn

I made it through the bloodbath without killing anyone. The Careers and I are looking at the kills and starting to search through our supplies.

Puck comes over to me. He looks a little traumatized, but there are no cut or bruises on him.

"How'd you do?" he asks me.

"No kills. You?"

"One. The girl from 8." He says, looking down. I know he feels guilty.

I'm about to say something reassuring when I here Jesse's voice.

"Look who we found hiding in the Cornucopia!" he grins.

He has the tiny girl from District 11 by the hair. Sebastian's walking beside him, poking a spear into her back.

"Please!" she yells, and I feel incredible remorse for her. "Please!" she yells again. Her face is already covered with tears. I don't know if she wants us to let her go, or just go ahead and kill her. Either's better than this torment.

"So," Jesse says as we all gather around. "Who hasn't gotten a kill yet?"

_Oh God, please don't let him make me kill her._

"I haven't." Sugar raises her hand.

"You?" Harmony says, laughing. "I had to save your ass from that scrawny girl from 9. You don't deserve a kill." She crosses her arms as most of us shrug our shoulders. "Quinn should." She says, gesturing to me. _Oh no._ "I haven't seen her use that bow and arrow yet."

They all nod in agreement. But I don't want to. I try to back away but Puck's blocking me.

"It's just one kill." He whispers as the Careers spread away from the poor girl. "They won't take us if you don't do this. One clean shot and it'll be over." He promises.

I nod and step forward. Jesse smirks at me, "Let's give her a head start." He says. Then he let's go of her hair. She immediately starts running to the trees.

I raise my bow, my arrow's loaded. _It's all for Beth._ I think to myself. _Just to see her one more time._

I shoot.

The arrow flies through the clearing and impales the girl just as she's reached the trees.

"Nice shot Q." Jesse says to me. "Now let's roll these bodies out of the clearing so the hovercraft can come get them." he yells at all of us.

Rachel

Kurt and I run. We have no packs on our backs, no weapons from the Cornucopia. Nothing to weigh us down besides the looming possibility that Finn and Blaine could be dead. And that's enough to crush us. After what feels like an eternity, we both stop to catch our breath. Kurt collapses against a tree and starts coughing and wheezing while I fall to my hands and knees and begin to throw up. We stay in this spot for some time. We ran for maybe an hour straight. We sit together on a large rock, leaning on each other when a thunderous boom makes us both jump.

Canon fire. They're counting the killings.

One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight…

Only eight. Usually around half of the tributes die during the bloodbath.

Kurt and I look at each other. Not voicing our thoughts, but thinking them all the same. Any of those eight dead tributes could be Finn or Blaine.

Artie

Sam came up with our plan. I was to run and find cover while he and Mike got supplies. Now Sam and I are going through our supplies while Mike's corpse is lying in a field a little ways away.

"Who got him?" I ask, as I unzip one of the three backpacks Sam got.

"Andrea." He says, looking anywhere but at me.

"Your partner?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "with an axe."

"Oh, I say. Poor Tina." Mike told us all about his girlfriend back home.

Sam doesn't answer to this. He just continues going through our supplies. "Woah!" he says, looking into a burlap sack, "Dude, check this out!" he hands it to me, "I thought there'd just be apples or something in this!"

I look into the sack and don't find apples, oh no. "Holy crap!" I exclaim.

"I know right." Sam says, smiling at me. "Pretty decent haul."

"Decent? Dude, these are amazing!" he' still smiling at me.

But his eyes quickly look up to the top of the hill behind me and his smile drops into a look of shock.

"Look out!" he screams, before jumping right in front of me. A flying projectile comes are way and Sam takes it full in the chest.

He falls back, onto me, the double sided axe protruding from his upper body. "No. No!" I say, I've lost both of my allies. Both of my friends. I furiously look up at the _bitch_ who has done this. And I see Andrea at the top of the hill, a satisfied smirk on her face. She begins to saunter down to retrieve her axe.

I roll Sam off of me and run away. But then I remember what's in the sack I'm holding. I turn back around and reach into my bag. My fingers wrap around one as Andrea's tearing her axe free from Sam.

As she raises it, ready to toss, I swiftly pull out the pin with my teeth and throw a grenade at her. I don't know how big the explosion will be, I just hope it's enough to kill her. She seems taken aback, but when she looks at her feet, it's already too late to run away. The rest of the Career pack reaches the top of the hill just in time to see it happen. There's a deafening boom, accompanied by a huge flash of red and large clouds of smoke.

They spot me, and start running around the explosion to get to me. Each has their weapons at the ready, but the Sugar is the closest. I turn and try to do a full run out of there. But my legs won't cooperate. They're moving at their own leisurely pace. I have just enough time to confirm my suspicion about not being completely in control of my legs when I feel Sugar's knife twist itself into my back.

Kurt

About twenty minutes after the eight canons in a row, when Rachel and I have rested long enough and are moving again, we hear another one fire.

One… two… three… four…

Half of the tributes have already died and the sun hasn't even set. I close my eyes and hope with everything I have in me, that it's not Blaine or Finn.

As the day wears on, Rachel and I grow hungrier, weaker, and tired. We snack on a few safe-to-eat berry bushes but our mouths remain diverged from water. Finally, when the sky's turned a deep purple, we pick a small nook high in a tree to sleep in. Picking our spot carefully, we make sure that neither of us will fall out during the night. The day has been filled with scorching heat so the night doesn't drop in temperature much. We both stay comfortable in our jackets.

When the sky's completely black and I know Rachel's dozed off next to me, a bright square appears in the sky, momentarily blinding me. I shake Rachel awake just as the District Thirteen anthem begins playing.

We both sit straight up when the words: The Fallen, appear in the night sky. It starts with the girl from District 3, so the Careers from 1 and 2 are all still alive. Artie's face is shown and Rachel and I both become sad at this. Andrea shows up next and we both are happy that a Career has been eliminated so early. But when Sam's face appears next, Rachel has to cover her mouth to prevent sobbing. The girl from 6 is next, so Quinn and Puck are still alive. Karofsky's still alive. And District 7 is skipped completely when the girl from 8 is shown. Rachel lets out a relieved sigh, and hugs my arm. I lean forward and anticipate the next face. It's the girl from 9. Blaine's alive. Rachel and I smile at each other, then lean back into our burrow for the rest of the fallen. Mike didn't make it, nor did the boy from 10 and the pair from 11.

The fact that we heard twelve canons but only eleven tributes were shown dead confuses us. One of those must have been something other than a canon. And I shudder to think of the possibilities.

The anthem finishes and the soft light that was illuminating the forest disappears. We're submerged into darkness and I'm left to ponder the only positive thoughts I can as I prepare to take the first watch.

_Finn is alive… Rachel is alive… I am alive… Blaine is alive… Blaine is alive…_

* * *

A/N: There you have it. Eleven are gone, thirteen still remain. I've spared Santana, Puck, Quinn, Finchel, and Klaine. Those promising tributes should make you feel somewhat hopeful.

Let me know what you thought about this chapter. I'd also like to know who you think will win at this point. Your thoughts are always appreciated.

Thanks to all those who have reviewed. I would not be continuing this story if it wasn't for you.

Until next time…


	11. Summer Nights

A/N: I apologize for the incredibly long wait and for the fact that this chapter isn't all that great. I hope you don't think it's bad or anything, but it is lacking in the action department. But I felt that the remaining tributes deserved a day with no killings to try and calm down.

Enough stalling! On with the chapter!

* * *

Summer Nights

Santana

"Okay. This morning, what we're going to do is sort through the supplies."Jesse says, glaring at us like a dictator.

He's gathered everyone around at sunrise and is promptly taking the position of our 'leader.' And without anyone's consent I might add.

After the initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia we just grabbed whatever weapons we're best with and set out to try and kill any tributes that didn't get far into the woods, the injured, weak.

We expected to find that curly haired guy from eight, the one that couldn't throw a knife worth a damn. Sebastian said he fought him at the Cornucopia, gave Curly-Q a pretty nasty gash across one eye. But no such luck.

We did manage to find Ex-Cripple and Trout Mouth. On the downside, we lost one of our members. But on the upside, we killed two tributes and got a swag bag full of grenades. I didn't even like Andrea anyway.

"Sort everything into three piles: weapons, food, and other stuff." Jesse yells, pointing in a different direction for each pile.

Sugar raises her hand, her face full of confusion. "What's 'other stuff?'"

"Anything that's not a weapon or food." I say, rolling my eyes.

We all walk towards the mound of supplies. Most are taking armfuls over to the designated directions and dumping them. I'm just picking up stuff and throwing in the proper place.

Box of crackers; directly behind me.

Dagger and sheath; to my right.

Sleeping bag; to my left.

"Hey, watch it!" I hear Harmony yell.

I roll my eyes before looking to find her knocked down in the pile of random stuff.

"I'll be more careful next time..." I yell back her before dropping my voice to a whisper and continuing to sort, "And make sure the next thing I throw at you is a knife."

As much as I would like it to be, the next thing I find is not a knife. But a small pack, black and zipped up. I open it and glance inside.

I find a small, silver tube, about thirty tiny darts, smaller than toothpicks, and a vile of some dark blue liquid.

A blowgun filled with darts and poison, the Gamemakers must have meant for Ex-Cripple to find this. I saw him use one during training.

But since he has no use for it anymore, I'm gladly taking it… without letting anyone else know.

It won't be smart to shoot these at tributes early in the games. I think I'll save these…

Who knows, this could be my ticket to winning the final smackdown with Jesse.

Kurt

Rachel and I are soaked through with sweat. The Gamemakers have to have caused this blistering heat today. I'm going to be burnt beyond repair. I am probably contracting skin cancer this very moment. The crate they send my body back in will catch fire due to the unnaturally high temperature of me.

But I'm not nearly as worried about that as I am about Rachel.

She looks just as bad as I feel. She's starting to slow down some, we have been walking for several hours and on terrains that neither of us is use to. Her eyes are saddened; they're half-lidded and hopelessly glued to the ground. She hunches her shoulders forward ever so slightly, keeps her mouth slightly open and breaths heavily. She seems so frail. It's like even though we know Finn and Blaine are still alive, the chances of finding them seem utterly impossible. I don't know if she'll be able to withstand these conditions, both physical and mental, much longer.

We're still moving, like Finn and Blaine told us, at a leisurely pace through the woods. This morning we went back to the spring we found and drank and washed as best we could. Then we set off with no destination in particular. Not true exactly, we're looking for our allies, but we have no idea where they are. Never in my life have things felt so unpromising. I feel like at any moment the Careers are just going to tear through the woods and slaughter the two of us.

Right on cue, I hear a twig snap somewhere in front of us.

I reach out my arm to prevent Rachel from taking any more steps, but she has already frozen. We stand as still as possible, listening for any other noises that identify an approaching tribute.

I hear a rustle of leaves. Rachel looks at me, her eyes wide and glazed with terror.

I jerk my head sideways, indicating for us to try and creep away. But as soon as I lift my foot, I see a head of dark hair and the gleam of a sword moving through the undergrowth.

Rachel makes a fatal mistake and lets out a loud squeal. The person stops. I waste no time at their hesitation and grab Rachel's hand, yanking her with me, and run full speed away from the weapon-clad tribute.

Rachel's struggling to keep up with me, she's breathing hard and I think she might be crying at this point. She's terrified, I'm terrified. I have to get us away from whoever that was. I have to get us to safety.

"Wait!" the person shouts.

I don't stop running. I'd never in a _million years_ stop running from them. Rachel, however, does and her immediate halt causes my hand to slip out of hers. I have to skid to a stop and scramble back to her. But she's already running _towards_ the tribute.

_Does she _want_ to die?_

That's when I realize she's not running to just any tribute. She's running to Finn.

_Finn! He found us! He actually found us!_

Rachel's already reached him and they're wrapped in a tight embrace. She's crying and wailing, her arms locked around his neck so tight it's a wonder she's not choking him. And Finn's actually tearing up too. He's even lifted her off her feet and spun her around a few times.

I'm overjoyed when I see him, and wait patiently for Rachel to let go so I can at least give him a hug. Once we separate, however, I realize something.

Despite the joy at seeing Finn alive, everything feels emptier than it did before.

"Where's Blaine?" I ask, looking up at Finn, then around the forest to see if he's anywhere nearby.

There's nothing, no one around us.

"Finn… where is Blaine?" I ask again.

Finn refuses to look me in the eye. _No. No no no no no._ It takes a few seconds before he finally looks at me. An expression of utter sorrow is on his face. _This can't be happening._

"Kurt…" he says.

I don't want to hear this. I don't want to know what happened. I turn away from them. _Blaine's gone._ I don't want them to see me cry. I don't want anyone to see me cry. I cover my face with my hands, wishing that no one can see me like this, but my weeping face is probably on every screen in Panem… unless a tribute's being killed.

I'm not allowed any privacy, and Rachel demonstrates this by gently placing a hand on my shoulder. It's a comforting gesture, but all I want now is to be alone.

"He's not dead." I hear Finn say.

_What? _I turn around. My face must look extremely distraught and/or angry because Finn can't seem to decide whether to back up out of fear or walk forward and comfort me. So he winds up lifting one foot forward before quickly placing it back several times in a row.

"He's not dead." Finn says again. Rachel's even staring at him funnily.

"What do you mean?" I ask slowly.

"There was no canon today. He's not dead." Finn says simply. He must not understand that I want more of an explanation than as to why Finn knows he's not dead.

"What happened, Finn?" I ask. So if Blaine's not dead, that means he's out there _alone_. That seems worse. "Why isn't he with you? You said that you two would stay together." A slight edge has risen in my voice.

Finn takes a couple steps back, "We were together when the games started. We were fighting to get supplies and get away together. I had my supplies and was ready to get out of there. I saw him at the edge of the woods, stumbling around. I… I think he was bleeding…" I gasp, now he's alone _and_ injured. "I saw him at the edge of the woods, so I ran after him. By the time I made it into the trees, he'd disappeared. I didn't know where he went. I tried to find him, I swear I did. But I knew it was only a matter of time before the Careers invaded the woods. I had to get away."

Everything is silent as I process this news.

Blaine is alone… injured… and thinking that we all abandoned him.

"It's alright Finn. It wasn't your fault." I say, oddly calm. "But I have to find him. I can't let him stay out there all alone."

"Kurt, no." Rachel says, squeezing my shoulder. "You can't go trekking through the woods all by yourself! You have no water, no supplies, no weapons. We are supposed to stay together." She says, gesturing to all three of us.

"Exactly," I say, pulling away from her. "We _are_ supposed to say together. Which is why I have to find him and bring him back!"

"But the chances of finding him-" Rachel starts.

"Are the same as the chances of Finn finding us." I say, "But that happened."

Silence. Finn stands in the background. Rachel stands in front of me, trying to decide in her head if she should let me do this.

"At least let us come with you." She says, finally giving in.

I ponder this offer. It would be stupid to go out in search alone, with no means of protecting myself. It would be incredibly stupid. But this is something that I have to do alone. I have to find him.

Therefore, I have to lie to Rachel.

"Fine. We'll find him together." I say as convincing as I possibly can.

"Good." Rachel says, relaxing. "It's almost sunset now. So let's make camp, get some sleep, and search for him in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." I agree. We both look at Finn, who nods, and all three of us begin to set up camp.

Puck

"I cannot believe how freakin' _hot_ it is!" I yell.

My sentiment is met with a chorus of loud _"Shuuuu's!"_ from the other Careers.

It's around dusk the second day and our group is loaded up with traveling packs and out combing the woods for more tributes. We've been doing this all freaking day. We left Sugar and Harmony to guard our supplies at the lake where we've set up a base camp.

Jesse, Sebastian, and I have already taken off our shirts just to try and alleviate some of this scorching heat while Santana and Quinn are already peeled down to their tank tops. Seriously, it's like the Gamemakers are trying to burn us alive!

I take a giant gulp of water from my canteen and pour some onto my face. Santana slaps my arm.

"Quit that!" she snaps, "Or do you want to completely drain us of our water supply by nightfall?"

I plug my canteen and glare at her, "In case you haven't noticed…" I say, "There's an entire _lake_ back there." I point in the direction of our camp. "And I doubt Sugar and Harmony will suck it all up by the time we get back. So lay off!"

She reaches for the whip at her belt, and my hand goes to the sword at mine.

"Will you both just calm down!" Quinn steps in between us. Jesse and Sebastian have stopped to watch this brawl too. "We don't need to be fighting this early in the games. At the rate we're going, we'll be lucky if even one of us makes it to tomorrow."

She's referring to the argument I had this morning with Jesse about carrying his extra knives, the minor disagreement Santana had with Sebastian over who got the last chocolate granola bar, and the threat Jesse made to Sugar when she tried to come along with us today.

"So we should all just calm down and focus on what we set out to do. Alright?" she raises her perfectly trimmed eyebrows at me, her eyes silently pleading with me.

I lock my jaw and refuse to answer. I'm fed up with these stupid Careers and their stupid… stupidness. Quinn and I might have to leave them sooner than we thought, so I don't unleash my inner Puckasaurus all over them before we've killed the other tributes.

"Fine." Santana says, slowly moving her hand away from her whip. "At least your Baby Mama has sense." She says before pushing past us and continuing through the trees.

I stare at Quinn as she follows the rest of the group. She's been surprisingly calm these past two days. I keep expecting one of her crazy mood swings to rear its head at me. But I guess killing that girl from 11 has made her too depressed. I made my first kill yesterday too, but it hasn't had as powerful an effect on me. If killing a few people means letting Beth know her birthmother, then I'll do it. But I don't think Quinn will. I don't think Quinn wants to get out of here as much as I want her to.

"Hurry up Puckerman." I hear Jesse call. "We're almost ready to make camp."

I grudgingly pick up my feet.

I hate these people.

Kurt

Finn agreed take first watch, must to the foil of my plan. We sorted the supplies and divided it accordingly. Rachel and I each got a knife, we all had a few bites of dried beef and crackers, and fairly separated the supplies in the two backpacks Finn had.

I purposely stay awake the whole time Finn keeps watch, and a few hours into the night, I get up to ask him if he wants to switch.

"You don't have to wait for me to go to sleep to sneak off." Finn says when I offer to take his position as lookout.

This comment takes me aback.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. It's no use, though. He already knows what I'm about to do.

"I know what's going through your head right now. And I know what you feel like you need to do. And I know I can't stop you." He says, getting up from his place at the unlit fire and going over to the backpacks. He picks one up and walks over to me, holding it out.

"Here," he says, "I already packed it for you. There's a bottle of water, pack of crackers, some dried fruit, some cotton, rope, and matches."

I don't take the pack from him. Instead, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. The only way to show my immense gratitude towards him.

"Tell Blaine I'm sorry I didn't find him." He whispers as I let go.

I nod. "Thank you for letting me do this, Finn." I say as I shoulder the pack.

"Oh, and I thought you could use these," he says as he goes over to a bush at the edge of our camp. He pulls out a fairly large pack and hands it to me. "For protection." He finishes.

I give him a questioning look as I open it.

What I find is over twenty gleaming silver knives. I smile at Finn, almost tearing up.

"I didn't want to bring these out in front of Rachel." He says, "She was convinced that you'd never leave without knives. I thought that if she saw these, she'd want to hide them under her sleeping bag or something." He lets out a small laugh, and I can't help but do the same.

I'm just so touched that Finn is the one who understands me and is letting me do this.

I close the pack and put it in my bag. "Goodbye Finn." I say, looking up at him.

He holds out his hand, "Bye Kurt." He says as I take it.

I shoulder my pack and begin walking away, but stop to tell him one last thing.

"Take care of Rachel."

"I will. I promise."

"Tell her I'm sorry to leave her… but this is something that I have to do. And I hope she understands."

I wait for Finn to nod before walking into the woods and not looking back.

* * *

A/N: There you go; the RagTag alliance has broken up before they even got together. This doesn't mean that they won't see each other again in the arena (wink wink ~ foreshadowing), but they will not be seeing each other for a while.

Santana finding Artie's blowgun… do you think that it'll come in handy for her?

Is Puck's suspicion about Quinn accurate? Does she really not want to get out of the arena that badly? Could that be why she agreed with Puck's plan to join the Careers, because she thought it was suicide?

Also, I hope you understood the parallel to the show about Sebastian nearly blinding Blaine. It was kind of obvious.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and haven't given up on this story yet.

P.S. I still would like to know who you think will win the games. If you give me a convincing argument, it could tip the scale a bit.

Thanks to all my reviewers!

Bye!


	12. Sour Sweet Gone

A/N: Okay, I know I haven't updated in a while but I went on vacation for a week and then it was my birthday, but I'm back and planning something exciting for the next few chapters so I should be writing more often.

I don't want to talk any more so enjoy the chapter!

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Sour… Sweet… Gone

Day 3: Early Morning

Katniss

"You," I say, pointing to a twenty-something guy, "I've had it with the heat. Drop the temperature about thirty degrees and bring in the rain."

"Thirty degrees?" Peeta inquires, "I thought we were going to gradually bring down the temperature over the course of the games."

That is our plan. The games started out excruciatingly hot and would be bitter cold by the end.

"It's one hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit now," I say, exasperated, "I think they deserve a break from burning alive."

"Where would like the rain to start Ms. Everdeen?" the twenty-something guy asks.

"At the lake. Then expand it over the whole arena. Let it steadily get heavier over a few hours. I'll let you know when to let it up." I command, before walking out of the room.

In the hallway, I take a moment to clear my head.

I close my eyes for a few minutes and listen to the steady footsteps walking past and murmurs of conversation. That's why I'm startled by the sound of Peeta's voice next to me.

"What's with all the rain?" I hear him ask.

"I already told you. I just thought they could use a break from all the heat." I lie with a shrug.

"Okay," he sighs, "But you do realize that the rain will dull everyone's vision and wash away trails. That'll make it harder for the Careers to find tributes."

"So." I say.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" he asks. "Are you trying to help them?"

I take a moment to consider this. Maybe I do want some of the weak tributes to live a bit longer. But even I can't prevent the inevitable.

The answer to Peeta's question brings in the hard reality. "I can't help anyone." I say, then walk back into the Gamemakers' room.

Santana

Rain sucks.

We're completely soaked to the core. The temperature has dropped so we're all wearing our long sleeves and jackets, which weigh us down. All the trails we've been following are washing away. None of us can see ten feet into the distance. And Jesse decided to be a genius yesterday and came to the conclusion that tents were nothing but an unnecessary hassle.

What a dumbass.

"I think we should head back!" I shout over the rain.

The others all stop to look at me. Jesse pushes his way through Quinn and Puck to get in my grill.

"Tell me, Tana… why should we do that?" he says. His voice low and cold.

"Because the rain's washing away all the trails so good luck tracking. Which you were doing a crappy job of anyway. Combine the cold, the wet, and the extra weight our clothes add and you have a recipe of jack." I say. "We're not gonna get far, or accomplish anything by venturing farther into these woods."

Sebastian chooses this moment to back Jesse up. "Just because you can't take a little drizzle-"

"Are food's gonna run out soon, we haven't found another water source besides the lake and the rain, but who knows how long this will last." I gesture to the falling drops of water.

"I agree with Santana."

We all look the owner of the voice. I'm surprised to find that Quinn agrees with me. I kind of thought we'd be rivals. The two top bitches of the Careers, we'd be the most likely to have a showdown.

"Why?" I ask; my voice as bitter as the sting of this rain.

"If we go back to Sugar and Harmony, we can restock on food, water. Actually have a fire, get warm. Get our energy back and set out when the rain's over." She says. She's already starting to walk away. "I'm heading back with Santana."

Quinn glances at Jesse and Sebastian, but stares for a few seconds at Puck. "You can do whatever you want."

I don't like this arrangement. And I sure as hell am not about to go prancing back to camp with her. This could be a trap.

She gets me alone, only to put an arrow in me. Then comes back so she and Puckerman can take down Jesse and Sebastian.

"Hell no." I snap.

Quinn stops in her tracks and turns to look at me, incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Either we all go or no one does." I say.

"Well, why can't I go back alone?" she asks. "Or why can't you or Puck come with me?" she asks.

"Because that will mean you've left the group. And when you leave the group, we can only assume your alliance with us has ended." I lower my voice and do my best to appear threatening. "So go back if you want. But know that if you cross our path again… Do I even need to finish that sentence?"

Quinn refuses to be scared so easily.

"Fine." She spits. "Let's all continue to waste our time in the woods and wait for starvation."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about starvation." I smirk, "We'll all have probably been driven mad and killed each other by then." I look to Jesse, "Unless we _all_ go back."

For several seconds all that can be heard around us is the steady fall of the rain. I keep my eyes locked on Jesse's, waiting patiently for him to give in.

"I think going back would be best." Sebastian mutters.

"Yeah." Puck agrees quietly.

"What do you say, St. James?" I ask with a smirk.

He manages to sneer at me (much to my satisfaction) before addressing the rest of the group.

"Let's head back to camp." He murmurs angrily.

Looks like the Careers might have a new leader.

Finn

Letting Kurt go off and find Blaine; that was easy.

I understand what it feels like to be away from the person you… you love, not knowing if they're hurt or even alive. You feel like it's all your fault and if you can just get to them, you'll take care of them and never let anything hurt them again. But promises like that can't be made in the games.

So letting Kurt go was easy. But telling Rachel about it…

"You let him go!" she screams at me. "Why! Why would you do that?"

I open my mouth to try and explain, but she just keeps yelling.

"What could _possibly_ make you think that he would be able to handle himself out there on his own? He has no real training in fighting. He doesn't know enough about this environment to adjust to it. Throwing knives is a skill he knows absolutely nothing about and all he has is one – just one – knife to defend himself with. He'll be-"

"Actually, he has more than one." I say. Maybe if she knows that I gave him the knives, that he'll protect himself, she'll quit yelling at me. "I gave him a whole pack."

I smile and hope that it will cheer her up a bit.

It doesn't.

Her face changes from utter rage to complete seriousness. Her eyes turn hard and it seems like she's trying to bore a hole straight through my head.

"Excuse me?" she says, her voice deadly and cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I… I umm," now I'm not so sure that telling her this was a good idea. "I gave Kurt some extra knives before he left."

"What?" I expect her eyes to start glowing red.

I give up trying and failing to calm her down. So I'm just going to explain what I did and hope she understands.

"Rachel…" me saying her name at least causes her to unclench her jaw. "You don't know what's going through Kurt's head right now-"

"Like you do?" she snarls.

"Yes." I say. It's about time she knows what it felt like for me to be without her. "Look, when I was apart from you, I couldn't stand it. In those hours after the bloodbath, not knowing if you were alive or dead… it killed me."

Her eyes soften; I think she can finally begin to see what I'm trying to say now. My argument has turned into more than just telling her why Kurt left.

"I had to find you. I _have_ to protect you. Not seeing your face in the Fallen it – it gave me hope. I could take comfort in the fact that you were looking up into the same sky I was at that moment, and feeling the same hope that I felt. It felt good… until I realized that you could be hurt. That you could be clutching a wound at that moment and have no supplies to bandage it. Or that you could have gotten separated from Kurt and you would have been alone that night with no one to hold onto for comfort. Thinking those things gave me the power to keep moving. If your face was in the sky that first night, I would have just given up completely, Rachel. I'm not here to win. I'm here to make sure _you_ win. And I know that I can't promise you that you will win. But I can promise you that I'm going to do everything I can to try and help you get out of this arena. I know that this is unrealistic but I don't care. Because, Rachel… I-"

I'm cut off and taken completely off guard when Rachel practically jumps up to kiss me.

It's explosive, like fireworks. And it gives me a new sense of courage that I can protect her. So with everything I have in me, I kiss back and out of sheer joy, I lift her up and spin us around.

I've felt small versions of this feeling before.

When I first saw her walking up the stage steps when we were reaped.

When she rode through the parade in her chariot.

All of that time we spent together in training.

The kiss in the elevator.

Yesterday when we were reunited.

All those times I had this same feeling but never before has it been this real.

This feeling gives me strength and bravery to be able to do everything to protect her, Rachel… the one I'm in love with.

When we finally break away, Rachel finishes my sentence, "I love you too."

Day 3: Late Afternoon

Sugar

"When do you think they'll be back?" I ask Harmony.

The majority of the time we've spent alone together at the Cornucopia has been in silence.

I figure that in order to keep my alliance with these people strong, then I should continue to try and make small talk, just so it seems like we're a part of a team.

But Harmony seems intent on being rude to me as much as possible. I believe that if she doesn't start to behave more pleasantly to me, then the Careers will kick her out of the group.

"I don't know, Sugar." Harmony deadpans. As I glance over at her, I can tell she's rolling her eyes.

I'm not ready to quit talking, though.

"Before they set out, Jesse said that they'd only be gone for a few days. So I expect their return by tomorrow or the day after. Although the rain may force them to come back sooner than expected." I contemplate.

"You just answered your own question, Sugar!" Harmony yells at me. "Why'd you even ask me in the first place if you have your own answer?"

"I just wanted to know what somebody else thought." I say quietly.

The only response I'm met with is a groan from Harmony.

After another hour of silence, Harmony crawls inside a tent for a nap. And I'm forced take watch by myself.

About thirty minutes go by when I realize that I'm not someone who can just sit still in the middle of a freezing rain.

So I decide to venture into the woods for a little scouting.

I notify Harmony of my departure and enter the forest, armed with my sword and dagger.

I quickly come to the conclusion that I do not like the forest. It's much darker than it was by the lake, the rain feels colder and harder here, and every little sound seems to happen right next to me.

Seeing that the moon is now well in the night sky, I'm ready to make my way back to camp.

That is, until I spot the ruins of a once lit fire.

I touch the coals and find that they're still warm. Now I'm excited.

I take out my sword and look around for the tribute(s) that could have been here.

I don't have to look far.

I hear a thud behind me. Turning around, I come face-to-face with the female tribute from 7, or 8, no the one from 8 is dead. She must have been watching me and jumped down from a tree.

So what if her training score was higher than mine, all she has is one lousy knife and a tree branch.

I can totally take her.

Katniss

Making sure that every camera has turned from Rachel and Finn (who appeared incredibly smitten today) and onto the Sugar and Cinder fight that is about to take place, I watch the screen with everyone else.

Cinder is taller, stronger, and a better fighter than Sugar. This shouldn't last long.

Sugar comes towards Cinder and swings her sword. Cinder's quick and manages to dive out of the way and come up behind Sugar. Without a second's hesitation, Cinder snatches the knife from Sugar's belt. Sugar recovers from Cinder's quick dodge and losing her dagger and comes at her again with the sword. Cinder dashes to the side and swings the branch she's wielding down upon Sugar's arm. The force causes Sugar to drop the sword. And in two seconds, the sword that was once Sugar's has now become Cinder's and is forcing its way into Sugar's abdomen and pinning her to a tree.

It takes a few seconds, before we can announce it. But Sugar becomes still, and we fire the canon.

Cameras find tributes and record their reaction to the canon. The Careers just seem angry that they didn't make this kill, though I can tell a few are faking the disappointment. Rachel and Finn snap up from their cuddling positions and immediately look worried. And Harmony climbs out of her tent, grabs a knife, and calls out Sugar's name.

"One death should satisfy the crowd for a while." I address the room. "We won't have to make anything interesting happen for the next few days."

Peeta comes up to stand next to me.

"Looks like the Careers are almost back to their camp." He says, casually. "No doubt they'll all go off in search of Sugar at least by morning."

"Mmm hmm." I mumble.

I don't want to talk to him about this. I can only stomach what I'm doing if I don't talk about it. I hate this job. It feels like I'm practically planning who's dying on what day.

"Start the Fallen." I say to whoever does that.

Once Sugar's face comes up and the screen closes, half of the tributes appear relived, while the Careers just appear angry.

This death has given the Careers something fresh to be angry about. And who knows how this rage will fuel their performance in the arena.

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A/N: So now half are gone and half remain. What's your reaction to Sugar's departure from the games? And now that Santana's commanding some attention with the Careers, do you think some will side with her more often than Jesse? How would Jesse react to that? Also, no mention of Klaine in this chapter, how do you think they're holding up all alone in the arena?

Let me know what you thought of this chapter and what you think will happen next.

Until next time!


	13. Darkest Before the Dawn

A/N: Hi! Here's another chapter that might seem short but it starts a major turn of events, picking up right where the previous chapter left off.

I know that a lot of you are worried about Klaine, but I'm holding out on them for a reason.

And don't worry about Finchel; they're fine… for now.

As for the Careers… you'll just have to read and find out.

Thanks to all who reviewed and I hope you enjoy!

Also, I don't know when the Gamemakers sleep, but that detail is irrelevant to this story. They all have futuristic super-caffeinated coffees that allow them to stay up through the entire games.

Enjoy!

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Darkest Before the Dawn

Katniss

After Cinder finishes Sugar off, she searches her for any supplies she might have. Sugar didn't carry anything; she obviously thought she'd be in and out of the woods fairly quickly. Sugar never did seem to plan anything. She sure didn't plan on losing.

Finding nothing, Cinder collects her new weapons and runs deeper into the forest, away from the body.

However, it being night, and since Cinder has been awake since dawn, she can't run far. Soon she finds one of the burrows and crawls deep inside. She falls asleep soon after.

As soon as she's out, the Careers are back at the lake and angrily approaching a confused Harmony.

I instruct someone at the screens to turn up the volume.

"What the hell happened?" Jesse yells at her, running up with his night vision glasses on and still carrying his two swords.

More Careers chime in and ask the same question.

"I don't know!" Harmony yells above the rest.

The rain makes it hard to tell if she's crying but it's clear she's upset. Not because Sugar's dead, I don't think anyone there misses her, but because the others seem to have made the death her fault.

All of the Careers probably feel angry that someone's been able to pick one of them off so easily.

"She told me she was going to go off scouting in the woods," Harmony says 'scouting' as if it's the most ridiculous idea in the world. "I thought she'd just had to use the bathroom or something, I didn't think she'd go far."

"How long was she gone?" Santana asks, calmly.

"I don't know, half an hour." Harmony guesses.

"Okay." Santana raises her voice to address the rest of the pack. "Whoever killed Sugar probably hasn't gotten too far from where she died. If we find that place and continue to move away from the lake, we can probably find them."

"And how the hell do you plan on finding the place Sugar was killed?" Jesse snarls at her.

He can't stand the fact that she can take charge better than he can. It would be funny to watch Santana knock Jesse of his pedestal but he clearly holds something over her. I don't think he'd take her taking his job that well.

Santana

Instead of answering Jesse's stupid question, I ask Harmony one of my own.

"Harmony, did you see where the hovercraft lifted Sugar's body?"

"Yeah, about a mile or so in that way." She points almost all the way behind her, to the right.

"Okay, I think we'll be able to find blood or something around there that'll tell us where it went down. The tribute has to sleep soon, so we can probably catch up to them if we head off now."

I look to the others, who are all nodding in approval. All except for Jesse.

Maybe I should back off for a little while.

"Harmony, you've been here too long, go with the others. I'll stay and watch camp." I say, dropping my pack on the ground.

"But this is your idea, Santana." Sebastian says, "Shouldn't you be leading this?"

"Jesse can take this one." I shrug, "I'm tired."

"Okay." Jesse says, quietly. "Everybody head out, I'll be there in a sec."

_This can't be good._

After they've all gotten a good distance away from us, Jesse steps closer to me, his eyes piercing, and his voice low and threatening.

"You better stop it with your little Leader charade, Santana. Because that position is filled. If you so much as make a suggestion as to what we should do, that doesn't go along with _my_ plans… well then, be sure to blow one final kiss to Brittany before you find you're too stiff to do so. Understand?"

I have been overstepping. It's time I just go along with him and try to get through these games as painlessly as possible.

Unable to even speak, I close my eyes and nod.

"Good." Is the only word said before Jesse stalks off after the rest of the group.

Quinn

It doesn't take us long to find the site where Sugar was killed. There's a ton of blood, a stab into a nearby tree, and the mud shows clear signs of a fight.

We venture deeper into the trees for about an hour before spotting what looks like a burrow. We found a couple of those in the woods before.

"Alright," Jesse whispers to us as we crowd around him. "There could be more than one here, so I'm not taking any chances. Instead of ambushing them right now, we're gonna create a wide perimeter around this place. Puck, you stay here and start closing in first. Quinn, Harmony, you standby to the right and left but don't jump into the fight. You two are only supposed to go after the tribute if they get away. Sebastian and I will be completely opposite Puck and join in shortly after the fight starts. Everyone got it?"

We all mumble in agreement.

"Okay, stay hidden and don't move until you see the tribute moving."

Everyone breaks away and go around to their respectable places. We could've just brought the grenades. Jesse completely ignored any and all signs of protests we made as he told us the plan. Puck going in first, I don't like these odds.

After about twenty minutes, I can see the girl from 7 crawl out from underground and begin gathering up her bags.

Movement out of the corner of my eye lets me know that Puck is moving in. She doesn't have her sword in hand, and becomes a little startled to see him running up to her. But she runs lightning quick to the place it's laying and grabs it.

The fight starts.

I don't know much about sword fighting, but I do know that no matter how good Puck is, this girl is better. She avoids every strike he makes towards her with ease and advances quickly on him.

He's in trouble and Sebastian and Jesse still haven't shown up yet.

I become panicked when it's clear that this fight is almost over. And the odds are not is Puck's favor.

Everything that happens next appears in slow motion.

The girl swings her weapon forward and cuts a long gash across the width of Puck's chest. He screams in pain and topples over backwards. The girl allows him a few moments to try and crawl away.

It's in these few moments that all I can register is a need to get to him. That is why I'm confused when I find myself kneeling beside him.

The girl looks as startled as me at my new location and still doesn't finish us off. I look behind her and see Jesse and Sebastian running towards the girl, brandishing their weapons.

Time returns to normal pace, and a decision floods its way into my brain.

I've made up my mind on what to do next; all I have to do now is hurry.

I grab hold of one of Puck's arms and swing it over my shoulders. I heave Puck onto his feet. He's still able to stand, but who knows for how much longer.

So with me supporting half of his weight, I force us into a direction away from the fight, and bound as fast as I can.

Katniss

Without a second hesitation, Quinn sprints away from the scene behind her and deeper into the forest.

Cinder's skilled, but Jesse and Sebastian quickly become too much for her. Jesse slits her throat at the same time Sebastian sinks a spear into her side from the left.

They don't notice that Quinn has disappeared with an injured Puck.

And they and Harmony continue to not notice until they again reach their camp at the lake and Santana asks, "Where are Puck and Quinn?"

The three look around, puzzled, until they remember.

"SHIT!" is the only sentiment Jesse makes about their predicament.

Those three really aren't that bright.

After some arguing, they all agree to sleep for now and start a fresh search for Puck and Quinn in the morning.

On another screen, Quinn manages to haul Puck away for a good ten minutes until the adrenaline wears off and she collapses.

Two more have left the group. And everyone knows what happens when you leave the group.

Quinn

"Puck? Puck, can you hear me?"

I don't know what to do. I have no idea how to treat a wound. And the Careers are bound to find us soon.

His chest doesn't look _that_ bad, but it looks pretty bad. The sword tore through his shirt so I take it off of him and use my jacket to try and stop the bleeding.

"Quinn…" he starts mumbling my name.

I've never seen him like this before. And it scares me.

"Shhh…" I sooth, trying to quiet him. He appears even more weak and vulnerable if he tries to talk.

Even though he's still bleeding and he's barely conscious, we have to get farther away from the Careers.

"Puck, you've got to get up. Okay?" I say as I take on half of his weight and try to get off the muddy ground.

It takes some struggling but we eventually begin moving again. This time, we walk slower, and I support more of his weight than before.

In this time I realize just how stupid running off was.

We have no food, no camping supplies; Puck dropped his sword during his fight with the girl, so all we have is my bow and arrow.

But since it's come down to it, I would rather die alone in the woods from starvation with Puck, than at the hands of a Career.

"Quinn…" he starts trying to speak again. "Quinn, you… you have to leave me." he mumbles. Though I can tell these words are stronger.

"Not a chance Puckerman," I say, smiling, though I'm not sure why. "You're stuck with me."

"Only until I bleed out." He says. "And… I doubt that'll be long. Just go…"

"Stop talking. It makes you harder to carry." I snap.

He responds to this by nearly collapsing and forcing me to hold up all of his weight.

"If the only way to keep you moving is to _drag_ you, then so be it." I say, "I'm _not_ leaving you."

Katniss

Puck still manages to hang on. He's alive to see the sunrise and the sunset. But it's undetermined if he'll get to see another.

The remaining tributes that aren't Careers all remain distraught over the course of today. Everyone fearing the worst. But when Cinder's face appears in the sky during the night, most appear relieved.

Thirteen are dead. Eleven remain (or ten and a half). There are still people to find and promises to be held in the arena. And even though the majority are gone, it feels like the games have only just begun.

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A/N: So what'd ya think? No Klaine or Finchel but they will show up soon. I realize there hasn't been a Blaine POV since the countdown. And the reason that the games have only just begun is we are officially down to only Glee characters now. I hope you remember who all is left.

Puck and Quinn's plans have fallen through, but I hope you still have faith in them. Though things look grim. Things seem to happen pretty quick now in the games but I plan on taking the next few chapters a little slow.

Jesse has had it with Santana upstaging him and has put his foot down! Will Santana be able to fall in line?

Review! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you have any request for smackdowns or anything then please just let me know.

Bye!


	14. How Will I Know

A/N: Kurt's return to the story! Still no Blaine though. Sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, despite the total lack of anything happening, but there are major things that are about to happen that are discussed in this chapter. This chapter also has the fewest POVs so far in the whole story.

Enough of me. Enjoy!

* * *

How Will I Know

Day 5: Dawn

Kurt

Imagine walking through a forest.

You're stepping on twigs that you think couldn't possibly snap any louder before you step on another and are proven wrong. The pine needles beneath your shoes don't want to allow you enough traction, so your feet slip every few steps. And you're afraid to touch anything for balance because when you get close to a tree or a large bush, you find it covered in bugs.

Now imagine walking through that same forest, while it's raining.

Huge, fat, bruising raindrops are falling positively _everywhere_. They have soaked you through your many layers of clothing, which now add extra weight. The water drips down, into your eyes, stinging them and blurring your vision. The clouds carrying this rain are dark and ominous, cluttering the whole sky so your entire surroundings are shadowy. Each time you take a step, your boots sink an inch into the mud. And when you pull them out, a layer of the thick, brown goop has stuck to your shoes. Water pours from small ditches and slopes in all directions around your ankles. And you can't hear a thing, besides the yell of the wind in your ears accompanied by the rain's splash when landing.

Finally, imagine walking through that forest with the feelings I have in my heart and mind right now.

Every sound you hear is a person who wants to kill you. A person who may be just like you, a scared, innocent, desperate child who wants nothing more than to be relieved of this torture. Or it's a person who is nothing like you, an angry, brutal, rampaging maniac who is relishing in this atmosphere and enjoys nothing more than killing those like you.

And you can't even tell them apart anymore.

Which means that either you're becoming more scared, or you're becoming more like the people you thought you were nothing like.

That's what's running through my head. But this is what's running through my heart.

Blaine. My heart is weighted with nothing but Blaine. Where is he? Stumbling and tripping his way through this rain-pouring forest as he tries to escape potential murderers. Or just hiding; curled under a bush, awaiting them and resenting me. Attempting to aid a wound or scrimmage for food that may or may not be poisonous.

No matter where he is, his feelings are all the same.

He hates me. And he has every right to.

I put him in a relationship that either ends in tragic death for both of us or just one of us while the other forever lives in endless despair. I let him risk his life for me as I run away like a coward. I make it seem as though I abandoned him and am doing nothing to try and find him. All the while, these events are just fuelling a huge fire of resentment and hatred he has made for me.

If I ever find him, I bet the first thing he'll do when he sees me, is try to kill me.

Day 5: Noon

Santana

Over the course of a few hours, the rain has lightened to only a slight drizzle. Most of the clouds are gone. This is the first time in three days we can actually see sunlight. The sun's almost to the top of the sky and Jesse's kept us all here at the lake for a so-called "important" announcement. If it's so important, he's already wasted six hours of valuable sharing-time.

All of us seem to be taking Sugar's death and Quick's disappearance in different ways. I think we all hate that two of us were killed so early in the games. We're the Careers. We're supposed to dominate this place. And the fact that scrawny tributes like that girl from 7, and even a crip can take us down so easily. Granted, Sugar sucked and the crip blew Andrea sky high with a freaking _grenade_. But it still pisses me off.

Also, the whole Quinn and Puck running away upsets me. To know that they were never really true to the Careers – well, I'm not either (actually, I don't think anyone is true to the Careers, we use each other and there's no trust between us) – and that they could just walk away whenever they wanted.

That's what I'm really mad at. Those two just ran away from the Careers at the right moment. I had the right moment, when I stayed here alone when everyone looked for Sugar's killer. I could've taken anything I wanted and gotten away. I had a chance to get away and I didn't take it.

Why! Why can't I bring myself to leave?

Am I really that _afraid_ of Jesse? That afraid that he can get the Careers to draw out my death and torture me in front of Brittany. I don't think they're that inhuman now. I kind of thought they were starting to like me better. Maybe it's because Jesse promised we could be the last two. He would help me and only me until everyone else was gone. But he actually means to _use_ me and only me until everyone's gone.

This is so stupid. I have my blowgun in my bag right now. My bag is right next to me. The tube's in the first inside pocket on the left, and the darts are lining the secret bottom compartment, already dipped in poison. Each night I re-dip the darts in the liquid and fantasize about sneaking out and shooting each of them.

Sebastian is sitting on a tall throne made out of supply bins, angrily sharpening his spears before he hurls them into nearby trees. If he keeps it up with this cycle, he'll be left with nothing but nubs on a stick. Harmony is in her tent, the opening half unzipped. Jesse's holding an apple in his mouth as he practices making nets and trying to make traps. A skill that, by the look of his frustration, he does not excel at.

I continue to contemplate using my secret weapon for several more minutes. When I'm still working up the courage and actually unzipping my bag, Jesse's shout breaks the silence as though it were glass. I'm startled and quickly zip my bag and join the others around Jesse.

"Alright," he begins, "I've been thinking and I've realized that staying together as a group isn't benefitting us right now." He pauses and gives us a chance to contemplate his statement.

"What?" Harmony asks, shocked. "A group isn't benefitting us?" her hand makes its way slowly to her belt for her knife.

"Are you saying we split up now?" Sebastian shouts, his grip on his spear tightening.

All I can do is wish that I had put on my bag before I walked over here.

"No! NO!" Jesse shouts over the loud arguing taking place. "I'm not saying we should split up for good. I'm saying we should separate for a few days."

"Why?" Sebastian asks harshly.

"We can cover more ground if we separate. The tributes left probably aren't in big groups. The biggest number they could be in is two or three." He says.

"You might have a point." I say, trying to appear helpful to him. "Think about it. The only groups are Quinn and Puck (soon to be just Quinn) and I'm pretty sure that the super tall guy, the curly-haired guy Sebastian cut, and the two from 12 are in an alliance. But-"

"But there's no way that those four could have actually joined up." Jesse interjects, "I know I saw the pair from 12 run off as soon as the gong sounded. Who knows if Gigantor found them. And if Sebastian cut Curly's eye, that means he's just stumbling around."

"Probably trying to keep his eye from falling out." Sebastian smirks, "I hope a sponsor sent him an eye-patch."

"So they most likely never got together." Harmony states.

"So, my proposition is that we separate for let's say four days. That way, we can each go off in search of a tribute. There's the guy from 6 or 9 or something, the two from 12, Cyclops, Gigantor, and Quinn and Puck."

"That's five groups." Sebastian says, "There are only four of us."

"So, it's not like they've all joined forces and are planning on taking us down any time soon. Everyone fears us." I say superiorly, trying to back up Jesse. I can't risk him getting mad at me again.

"Exactly." Jesse says, "Besides, it's not like we'll be able to find all of them in four days. The whole point of this is to try and get the layout of this place. We've only gone deep into this side of the forest. And only a few miles in the other side when we looked for Sugar's killer. If we spread out for four days, and then come together at the Cornucopia on the fifth day, we will have fewer tributes to find and it will be easier to look for them as a group."

This plan seems logical, but there's always this undertone to Jesse's plans that at second glance, makes them seem terrible. Still, I have to go along with him. After all, this looks like my golden moment to escape.

"I'm in." I say.

"Me too." Sebastian agrees.

Harmony smiles and nods.

"But let's get something straight." Jesse says, changing his voice to a dark whisper. "I'm only waiting that fifth day. Sunrise to sunrise, that's all the time you have to be back at the Cornucopia." I turn my eyes to the ground, unable to look at his face anymore. These are threats for me. "After that second sunrise, I'll have to assume that whoever's not there has left the group. And we all know what happens when someone leaves the group." I feel him nudge my arm with his elbow. "Right Santana?"

"Mmm hmm" is all I can manage. I don't trust myself to talk right now.

"Are we all agreed?" Jesse asks one last time.

Harmony and Sebastian both say yes when all I can do is nod.

"Alright," Jesse claps his hands together, "Start packing. We part at dawn."

Harmony and Sebastian run off to collect all the best food and I'm left with Jesse. When I turn to go fetch my pack, he grabs my arm and pulls me towards him.

"What are you-" I start.

"In case you have forgotten, Santana, I said that we'd stick together until the end, and I'd hate to be a man who goes back on his word. So you can get those thoughts about leaving out of your head right now. Because you'll be coming with me tomorrow."

I'm shocked. I'm heartbroken. I'm devastated. I'm worried. And I'm terrified. This was supposed to be my chance at freedom. Speech refuses to come out of my mouth. All I can do is stare into the face of my tormentor and try not to cry.

"Are we clear?" he asks, eyes boring into my soul like daggers, voice dangerous and low, grip on my arm beginning to bruise.

I'm still too scared to answer, and I can sense his patience thinning. After more silence he grabs onto my other arm and shakes me.

"Are we clear?" he says again, getting angrier but trying not to get Sebastian and Harmony's attention.

Finally, I speak.

"This isn't about getting to know layout of the arena or trying to find more tributes. All this is is just some big, elaborate scheme to get me alone."

"Of course it is." he says softly, letting go of one of my arms and brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

I'm disgusted that he even tries to act like this with me. How he can go from being the most disturbing and evil man on the earth and then become even more disturbing as he tries to be smooth and seducing. I wrinkle my nose and pull away in outrage. This only causes him to tighten his grip by digging his nails into my skin and pulling me even closer.

"With any luck, Harmonica and Sea Bass will be killed off by Mother Nature and you and I will go on an actual hunt. We'll be protecting each other, Tana, as we kill all of the tributes that stand in our way." I can feel my blood drip out of the eight, stinging crescent-shaped wounds I now have on my arms.

A strange sensation passes through me. All of the fear, shock, worry, and disgust I felt only seconds ago fly out of my body and are replaced by nothing. I'm expressionless, emotionless when I answer.

"Every… last… one." I say before looking into his eyes, "Until we're the last two left for a clean fight to the finish." I repeat what he said that first night on the train, when he first told me knew about Brittany.

"Exactly." He smiles, not smirks, as he relaxes his hold on me. "I knew you'd be behind me on this Santana." He turns and goes over to the supplies, "You're finally seeing things my way." He shouts back to me.

Still deprived of expression or emotion, without moving from my spot, I respond to Jesse's last statement, mainly to reassure myself, "I'll _never_ be able to see _anything_ your way."

* * *

A/N: Santana never can catch a break. Don't hate me for splitting the Careers up so soon, but with Jesse seeing that Santana was becoming a threat, he had to get her away from the others.

Do you think Blaine will act the way Kurt suspects if he ever gets to see him?

No Puck or Quinn in this chapter, but they're not done yet. Neither are Finn and Rachel.

Any requests for which Career should run into which tribute, I'm all ears.

Until next time… bye!


	15. Never Can Say Goodbye: Part 1

Never Can Say Goodbye: Part 1

Day 6: Sunrise

Santana

Sunrise, that was the time we agreed to split up.

I haven't gotten any sleep all night. Maybe it's because Jesse wanted to sleep with me on top of the hard, freezing, metal Cornucopia. Or maybe it's the fact that he took my freedom and my hope of ever getting it back.

My back is sore from leaning against the tail of the Cornucopia all night and my neck is stiff. My butt has been numb on and off, I can only get feeling back in it when I try to sit in a new position, but each is more uncomfortable than the last so I've given up on that and have adjusted to no ass. My legs keep drifting to sleep (that tingly pins and needles feeling) and I have to shake them every ten minutes.

The Gamemakers haven't changed the weather yet, I don't think. But it gets pretty cold at night now, so I'm bundled up in all of my original clothes and two really thick coats from the supplies (one to wear and one to throw over my legs while my sleeping bag and blanket are already in my bag).

Jesse's curled up in a sleeping bag with three blankets tucked in there with him. His position is as far away from me as possible on top of this stupid thing, at the edge, where the mouth opens.

Trust me, I would be out of here in a heartbeat but Jesse knows that I'm getting more and more anxious to leave. So, he's using one of my packs as a pillow, and has one tucked under his arm. I watch him in disgust as he continues to expand the ever-increasing pool o' drool he has formed on my back pack.

This bastard is not giving up. When we meet tributes out there, he's gonna have me fight them while he just watches. Then, once we've taken all of them out, I'm gonna be exhausted and probably injured so I can't even participate in our "clean fight to the finish" so he wins automatically.

I'm tired of thinking about this. I can't stand to focus on it any more. Too bad there aren't many distractions out here.

I slide down the tail until I'm flat on my back, looking up at the sky.

The majority of it is a soft purple, but those tender golds and oranges are bleeding through in the east.

Brittany and I used to do this when we were kids. At sleepovers, she'd wake me up at five in the morning and we'd climb onto the roof to watch the sunrise. She'd be bouncing up and down, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement, hair disheveled in places, as that big glowing orb made its way over the tops of the Capital's buildings.

But after the revolution won, her parents declared it unsafe to be out so early with no one but Peacekeepers around. Still, every morning, Britt would wake me up and we'd sit at the window to watch it.

I miss that. The warm, fuzzy feeling I got just by sitting next to her. I miss seeing her so happy at the simplest things. How she can brighten my mood by only being near me. How innocent and child-like she is while still being mature and wise when the time comes.

She's the only person I've ever loved. The only person who's ever loved me.

She's the only thing in my life that matters. So I refuse to give up on her so easily. I refuse to accept my fate. Jesse can do whatever he wants to me… but I'm never gonna stop fighting.

I wipe away the few tears that have fled down my cheeks and stop new ones. I rise to my feet. This are my games, and I'm not gonna anyone – especially Jesse – win them instead of me.

I walk over to Jesse; he's out, drooling slightly on one of my packs. I bend down, grab a shoulder strap, and yank it out from underneath him. His head bangs onto the Cornucopia and he immediately reaches into his boot for his knife.

He freezes when he sees me, pointing the knife right at my face as I smile at him.

"What the hell, Santana?" he shouts.

"Sorry, but you said sunrise, right?" I reach over him and grab my other pack he had under his arm. "Time to go." I say sweetly before sliding down the side of the Cornucopia.

Screw Jesse. He doesn't own me. And besides, I'm the one with the advantage. I smile, reaching inside the right pack and feeling the blowgun.

Watch out everybody, cause the Bitchtown Express just showed up and guess who's driving.

Quinn

Day 6: Noon

Remember when I said that Puck's wound was bad, but it wasn't _that_ bad? Well, I lied.

It's nothing but a huge gash across his entire chest that keeps bleeding on and off and is starting to get infected. I found a spring last night and drug him over to it to clean the wound. All that seemed to do was make it infinitely worse.

This morning, we got our first gift from a sponsor. And we've been in preparation to use it all morning. Why couldn't they have given us a syringe like Peeta got? Though, that was an incredibly expensive gift that was sent in the Feast. No one wants to spend that much money on two dumbass kids from 5 with a baby back home that they don't even have custody over. This is supposed to help Puck, but I'm the one who has to use it. And I don't think I can.

I have never, _ever_ stitched up a person. Let alone even touched a needle and thread. Now, I'm sitting here, next to a dying Puck, with a bottle of alcohol in one hand, afraid to pour even one drop on him.

"Are you ready?" I ask him, the bottle shaking in my hand.

"Yes, Quinn. I've been ready for the past thirty minutes, since the first time you asked." He smiles at me, trying to recreate that smirk I've seen him flash to girls a million times over the past eight years.

But he can't do it. He's skin is pale and a greenish-grey color has crept to his face. When the corners of his mouth curl up, his mouth twitches and he winces in pain.

That smooth, badass boy who won me over that drunken night Beth was conceived is gone. And without my help, he'll probably never come back.

I have to do this. I have to swallow my fear and just do this. I'm only letting my fear grow and letting him get worse by prolonging this.

"Okay, here we go." I say, prepping myself, though my hand remains upright, still shaking. "Here we go."

It's time to be brave. It's time prove that-

"Oh for God's sake!" he yells, grabbing my hand and forcing the bottle upside down.

Its entire contents spill onto one section of the wound as Puck starts screaming in agony. He lets go of my hand and begins pounding the dirt with his fists.

"Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!" I rush out, not knowing what to do. "Why did you do that?" I yell at him. Which is probably not what he needs right now.

"Because-" he pauses to scream, "Because you weren't gonna do anything!"

"I totally was!" I snap back. I really was. "I was just preparing myself." I say indignantly.

"Oh, right. Of course." He rolls his eyes. "Though, I think thirty minutes was enough time to get prepared! You wouldn't have done it." He replies bitterly

"I-" I want to say that he's wrong, but I know he isn't.

I couldn't have brought myself to hurt him anymore.

"Just, keep it down. You've probably already attracted someone's attention, so let's hurry." I say, reaching for the needle and thread.

I thread the needle and bring my hands to the start of the wound.

"This is going to hurt," I say, giving him an apologetic stare, "A lot."

The stitching begins.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the wait and the shortness of this chapter (again). But please review and let me know if anything can be improved or if you have any suggestions for the story.


	16. Never Can Say Goodbye: Part 2

A/N: I'm finally back! Did you think I died or something? I know it's been a long wait and I am extremely sorry. So instead of rambling on, I'll just go ahead and let you read the longest chapter to date…

* * *

Never Can Say Goodbye: Part 2

Rachel

Day 6: Afternoon

Three days. Is that really all it has been? Three days since Kurt left to find Blaine. Three days since Finn and I have been alone. Three days an entire nation has seen.

My best friend has abandoned me for his "boyfriend?" and left me with mine. Saying it in my head doesn't make it sound all that bad, I just really wish we could have stayed a team. But that never would have worked out. Finn wants it to be me who gets out alive, I think Kurt did too. Blaine hardly knows me, he would not have agreed to that. And that only would have created one of the worst fights in the games, friend against friend. It makes me sick to admit this, but I am almost glad that Finn and I are alone and so are Kurt and Blaine. Now that we are separated, it is more likely that a pair will die off soon. I know I am a terrible person for thinking that, and of course I do not _want_ any of us to die. But at least if that happens, we won't have to kill each other.

"So, tell me something about yourself." Finn says, startling me out of my horrible thoughts, thankfully. "What's life like back in 12? What kind of things do you and Kurt do together?" his smile is so childlike, so innocent. I wonder if he knows how charming it is.

I wonder; does he know that whenever a question is followed by that smile, I cannot refuse him an answer? And if he knew the kind of things I was thinking, would he ever smile like that at me again.

"Life in 12 is…" I can't find a word for it. I have no idea how to explain my life to him. And I'm worried that he won't understand me when I tell him. "You first." I say, smiling. "What is 7 like?"

He seems confused by me directing him to answer the question, but he must not think much of it and complies. "District 7 isn't actually all that bad." He admits.

"Why not?" I ask, intrigued.

"Well… I'm sure it's just like all the other Districts, you know. Peacekeepers watching your every move. Having to scrape the bottom of the barrel for food and money."

"Twelve is like that too." I say, feebly.

"But none of that stuff really bothered me. Since my dad died when I was a baby, I felt obligated to take over. I had to become a man sooner than expected. And I liked that."

"How do you mean?"

Finn pauses and turns his body so he can look at me full on.

"Before the rebellion, when the Capital was still just the Capital, I didn't feel like I had a purpose. I felt like nothing I did mattered, because everything was so frivolous and unnecessary, nothing _did_ matter."

"Weren't you like, eleven?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but, without my dad… I don't know. It just felt like nothing I did mattered because my mom always did everything. And when we were taken over, I had jobs, I had responsibilities, things to do, money to make. I did everything I could to help my mother." He looks down, not letting me to see his face. And I know he's thinking about her.

All I can hear is the diverse sounds of the forest around us and our breathing. I do not speak. I allow him time to think until he can look at me. Until he can let me back in.

"And now that I'm not there…" he says after minutes of silence. "What is she going to do without me?"

On the last word said, he finally looks at me. I can see a few tears that have escaped. His eyes are pleading, almost begging me. He wants me to answer a question that I do not know the answer to. But as I study his face, I know I have to say something. Because for the first time, I see in his eyes something I never have before, I see fear.

"Your mother…" I start, taking a deep breath. "She knows that you have done _everything_ to help her. But if she can get through ten years of raising you without any outside help, then she can make it without you now." I say this as firmly as I possibly can because Finn is strong, and he's forgetting that, and we cannot afford to be weak right now. I go over to him and grab his shoulders, holding them securely. "So you don't even need to worry about her right now. Because there's no doubt in my mind that she can pull through this."

"You've never even met her." He says, looking down again. "How would you even know?"

"Because," I say, shaking him. That seems to startle him a bit, but it gets him to look at me. "You cannot raise someone to be as strong as you without being strong yourself."

I look at him hard, reading every facial expression until they start to change from looking dismal to looking brave. He straightens himself to full height and I let go of his arms, stepping back.

"Okay." He says in a way that tells me there will be no revisiting this conversation.

We spend the next few minutes in silence as we pack up the site we have stayed at last night and most of the day. We have to keep moving.

While we walk, Finn keeps one arm around me, which is slightly difficult because of our backpacks and weapons strapped to us. But it always remains there, unless he helps me over a particularly difficult log or down an extra slippery slope. Which I find hilarious most of the time, because it is very obvious that I have much more coordination than he has. So after Finn tries to help me, he is always the one who ends up falling over.

After walking a fairly good distance, Finn asks me again.

"Hey, you never told me anything about you." He says, pulling his arm away slightly so he can look at me good. "What 12 was like?"

"Oh, right." I say, looking as though I have forgotten completely. But I haven't. I have been dreading him bringing it up. "District 12… was… it wasn't- well, at least _my_ family wasn't…"

"Wasn't what?" Finn asks, pulling his arm away from me completely. "Is this the first time you can't find something to say?" he asks, again with that smile.

"No." I say, blushing. I really can't ever refuse him an answer. But suddenly, I become very aware that his arm is not around me. And all I can feel is the absence of his touch. And I feel bare without it. So, to make up for the loss, I reach out and grab hold to his hand. But this touch feels hollow and the void is still there.

What am I supposed to tell him? I doubt he wants to hear the truth.

I thought life in a district was terrible, because it _was _terrible. But do I also tell him that I liked the fact that my life was harrowing, I thought it was tragic and dramatic? I believed that my surrounds made up the setting of an epic novel or motion picture. In my mind, I made myself the stunning heroine who stood for truth and freedom. I warped my entire life into a drama starring me and me alone.

'Finn, back in District 12, I was a spoiled, self-centered little girl who only thought of herself in a fantasy and never gave anyone else's life a second glance… Not even Kurt, I suppose. That's why he left.'

Yeah, sure, I can say that to him, then he will never look at me the same way again. I can't tell him anything about my life. He's suffered so much and has been able to persevere. I've suffered hardly anything; my Dads' income was hardly affected. We still had some money; we had a decent meal on the table every night. Fact is, most in 12 hated us for that. Almost everyone, except for Kurt and his father. And I have absolutely no idea why not. But I'm glad they didn't, because if they had, I would have never found such a remarkable friend in Kurt. I wouldn't have any friends at all.

I cannot tell Finn about that part of my life. It would ruin this whole alliance, this whole… whatever this is that we have between us. So, this is what I have to tell him instead.

"Finn," I start, not looking at him and steadying my voice. "I don't want to talk about my life right now… maybe not ever."

I lift my eyes and find him giving me a puzzled look.

Then, a look of understanding appears on his face. "Something really terrible must have happened to you, right?" he asks softly.

I'm almost about to shake my head 'no' and tell him the truth. But, before I can, a tear rolls down my cheek and reminds me that I can't. He'll hate me if he knew.

"I said I don't want to talk about it." I say firmly, looking into his eyes.

He's shocked by my forcefulness, I can tell. But he quickly accepts it and moves to reconcile me.

"I'm sorry." He sighs, wrapping his arm around me again. "Rachel, we don't have to talk about this."

"Thank you." I whisper, barely audible.

And we both resume walking through the trees in silence, leaving the topic of my life behind.

And I'm determined to put as much distance between us and it as I can.

Kurt

Day 6: Evening

If there's any point in running this insane argument through my head again, I'd love to hear it. Because I've gone through it over a thousand times and it hasn't helped me make up my mind at all. I know every fact. Every point. Every detail. Every _word_. And I'm still caught with the decisions.

A. Do I keep trying to find Blaine, against all odds?

Or B. Do I give up and start focusing on my survival, alone?

Both seem pointless because some part of me will always be calling myself a miserable coward who gave up no matter what option I pick.

If I choose A, I'll be fighting for something. I'll know that I did all I could to find Blaine and that will make me honorable to love. But what about to myself… to my father? After all we've suffered through, after all we've lost, after all he's sacrificed… only for me to get myself killed over a boy and leave my father all alone in this horrible world.

But by choosing B, I'll practically be spitting in Blaine's face. I'll be taking someone's faith that they've put in me and throwing it aside. I will be letting him die. Can I do that? Can I really betray someone's trust?

Hours… days even… have been wasted on this argument. It's time to make up my mind. It's time to choose what I'll do, where I stand…

I choose to-

CRACK

A twig snaps underfoot. But who's foot?

Not mine.

My heart skips a beat. Then another. And another.

My jaw drops. I'm shaking.

None of my reflexes are working.

I should be backing away. I should be reaching for a knife. I should be doing _something_.

And yet I do nothing.

I can hear a rustle. Leaves? A branch?

What is it? An animal? Not with my luck.

"Shit." I hear them swear.

A tribute.

Definitely female.

It's not Rachel, she wouldn't swear.

The noises are getting closer!

Think. _Think_! Who's left?

…Santana?… Quinn?…

Neither of those sounds good. Both careers. Both deadly. Both with something to get back to. That's not a good combination.

She's almost near me!

Who else? There has to be someone else? Who else could it be?

Unfortunately, I don't need to try and figure it out any more.

Because a bush to my left is being pushed aside and she's stepping through it.

Because her eyes have found me and she smirks.

Because she twirls the large knife in her hand and gets into position.

Because Harmony is standing only a few yards away from me.

"Well, well." she says smugly. "Looks like my luck has turned."

My senses are starting to come back. I can move again, no longer paralyzed with fear, although there's still plenty in me. I shift my feet on the earth beneath them. My fingers twitch at my side.

There's a knife in my back pocket. I can get it in one quick motion. If my body would just catch up with my mind…

"After all this time and the Gamemakers practically send me the Dough Face as if he were a sponsor's gift!" She shouts to the sky.

Something tells me that her time in here is finally taking a toll on her mind.

"Well, what do you want to do, huh?" she asks me, a scary gleam in her eyes. "I hear you can throw knives?"

You have no idea.

"Want to take a shot at me?" she yells.

"You have no idea." I say, shocked at the croakiness of my voice. It's been days since I've spoken. I guess my mind has caught up.

"Look sharp," She taunts. "I'm fast!"

"So am I."

And in one lightning quick motion, I pluck the knife from my pocket and throw it at her.

All I see is a silver blur extend from my hand. But all I hear is a distant thud in the grass.

She wasn't lying. She is fast. She dodged it with ease and is already running towards me.

I reach for one of the many knives strapped to my thigh. I grab on and flick it at her, backing up as much as I can.

It misses her by a hair and panic washes over me. No time to think rationally, I turn and run away as fast as I can.

I can't hear her or my own feet or anything else above my frantic panting. Leaves smack against my eyes and thin branches cut my face. The undergrowth threatens to entangle my feet with every step, but I keep pulling them free.

My fingers wrap around another knife and I twist around as much as I can while still running. I hurl it at her and spin back around, not knowing if it got her.

I can't run forever. I can hardly run another minute.

She's gaining. Forget gaining, she's almost on top of me.

"No you don't!" she breathes from behind me.

Before I realize what's happening, she's already grabbed my shirt sleeve and yanked me backward. She packs sheer force in that tiny frame of hers and with one shove of her forearm, I'm on my back in the dirt.

It's shocking what I see when I look at her. It's terrible. This is really my first chance to see the impact this has had on her. How much she's changed. She looks mad. She looks wild. There's absolutely nothing of that confident girl from District 10 who was so smug with the Careers during training. The result is so drastic. All I see above me is a deranged shell of a girl. She's nothing but an animal now. And that's even more terrifying.

She points her blade at me, her right boot digging into my chest, and laughs. "I guess you're not a good as you think you are."

I can see my knife protruding from her calf, fresh blood dripping down it. I give her one last look. Tears already welling in my eyes.

This is it. This is the end.

That's the only thought that has time to run through my mind before-

A cruel, thick sound of something large impaling… _her_.

Her body convulses for a split second. Her weapon falls from her twisted grip and stabs my shoulder before falling over into the grass. I let out a small cry of pain. Her eyes, still on me, widen and never blink again. She stiffens, and tips forward.

The horror of seeing her collapse onto me is even more terrifying than seeing her crazed.

In a second, her full weight is on me. So heavy. Her hair is spilled on my face, but through the black curtain and over her shoulder, I can see what's killed her. One battle axe is deep in her back, circled by her blood seeping through her shirt.

"Neither are you." A gruff voice says from somewhere beyond me and her body.

Even though I've never heard the voice, I know who it belongs to. I recognize their axe. It's part of a pair.

One is in Harmony's back. And the other… the other, I can now see, for its owner is slowly turning it in their hands as they walk out of the shadows.

"Kurt." They say, their face now visible.

With difficulty, I attempt to push Harmony off of me as gently as I can. As I sit up, I clutch my now bleeding shoulder, my face contorting at the pain I hadn't felt until now.

I stare up at this person who is about to have two people's blood on their hands.

I grit my teeth together and through the hurt, I utter the boy from 6's name. "Karofsky."

Quinn

BOOM

The cannon.

My hands freeze. The needle and sutures make no sounds as they hit Puck's stomach. My face goes from grimacing at his wound to sheer panic in a microsecond. And my eyes have widened to twice their size.

I look down at his face, desperately searching for any sign that he's still alive. Fluttering of eyelids. Quivering of jaw. Whispering of breath. My bloodstained fingers twitch as I bring them to his cheeks.

"Puck?" I murmur, lightly shaking his head.

Did his mouth just open a bit? Did he just make a noise?

I don't know.

Is he alive? Is he dead?

I don't know.

"Puck?" I say, a little louder than before, but my voice is only barely past a whisper.

"uhh…"

A noise just ghosting of the outskirts of his lips. But still, it escapes and finds its way to my ears.

"Puck!" I smile as relief immediately spreads through me. It starts in my chest and floods through the rest of my body, until I'm entirely warmed by it.

"Qu… Qu… inn…" the repetitive sounds of my name float out of his mouth as his eyelids flutter slightly.

"I'm here. I'm here." I say frantically, bending down close to him, hoping he can feel me there.

"…Qui… nn…" he keeps on, finally peeling open his eyes a sliver.

"What? What is it?" I ask, grabbing hold of his hand and bringing it to my chest. "Tell me. I'm right here-can't you feel me?" I begin to rub his arm desperately with my other hand. He's cold as ice. "I'm not going anywhere."

"…Quinn… you- you… have to…"

"What? I 'have to' what?" I inquire, still rubbing his arm. "Tell me. Come on." I push, hoping my words are encouraging him.

"have to…" he tries but his voice fades back and his lids close.

"No. No! Come on, Puck!" I shout at him, letting go of his hand and forcing my arm underneath his head. I'm practically hovering in front of his face now. His arm is draped over my lap while my other hand is still rubbing his arm. What am I doing. Am I trying to warm him? Make him feel my touch? I don't know. But he can't slip away now. Even if all he's saying is ramblings, I still have to make him hold on. "What do I have to do? Tell me, please!"

His eyes open again. I look into them and try to make out their color. But I can't, they're not parted wide enough.

"you have to… to…" Do I even remember what color his eyes are? Hazel? Light Brown? Dark Brown?

"I'll do it!" I yell. I'm in hysterics now, blinded by tears that fall onto him. "Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it! Just tell me what it is!"

"…leave me…" he sighs.

I stop rubbing his arm.

"What?" I whisper harshly.

Does he really think I will? Does he actually expect me to? Because I won't. I will not. How could I ever leave him? We have a child. We have a family. We can't let that fall apart. I can't do that by leaving him behind.

"No." I say sternly. "Never. I'm going to stay right here." I smile, though he can't see it. And I start back massaging his arm. "Right here." I nod.

"Go." He says. It's the most force he's put in a word all day.

I'm immediately taken aback. But I quickly regain myself.

"I said no. I'm going to finish stitching you up. And after that, I'm gonna stay right here."

"Quinn… get out of here." He grunts, and coughs. A few spots of blood splash onto the ground where he turned his head. "It's hopeless."

"Don't say that." I say, gently removing my arm from behind his head and guiding it onto the earth. "I don't believe that." I reach for the needle that fell to his stomach. But he lifts his arm to grab me, although he can't quite make it, and his hand falls back to the ground. It's enough to make me stop, though.

He exhales, and he sounds slightly annoyed. "Why do you… always have to… be so… damn _stubborn_?"

"Why do you?" I ask. I sound like a child, just repeating his question.

"Look…" I say after a breath to collect myself. "You might be able to let go easily, but I still want my daughter to know her birthparents. I'm trying to keep our family together."

"So am I." he whispers. "Do you think… Beth will have… either of us if… you just… sit here crying in… the dirt beside… me until… Jesse or somebody… finds you?" I don't have an answer to that. "At least… if you go now… she'll have you."

I want to protest. To say that I can protect us with my bow. But what about food? Neither of us has eaten anything besides old crackers in almost two days. I tried hunting once, but couldn't bear to leave him alone for more than five minutes. I know he's right about this. And if the roles we're reversed, I know I'd be telling him the same thing. God, I wish the roles were reversed.

"You're a better father than I am a mother." I mumble, new tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

"I don't believe that." He says, so soft I don't even know if I heard it.

Kurt

Day 6: Dusk

"I don't believe you." I say in disbelief, trying to cross my arms. But the wound on my shoulder flares up again, and I have to stop moving.

"I know that you don't. And I know that you have a lot of reasons not to. I mean, I don't exactly _look_ like a good guy to you, do I?" Karofsky says, gesturing to himself and smiling.

Why is this bastard smiling? Does he really think that I can believe anything he says? There are absolutely no reasons for me to trust him.

"Let me get this straight." I say. "You want me to form an alliance with you-"

"Yes, I-"

"Hold on!" I say, holding my good arm up. "You want me to form an alliance with you. And it only has to last a few days. You're willing to share food, water, shelter, and protect me from any Career." I glance at the blood in the grass where Harmony's body was before the hovercraft came. "But I don't have to do the same for you. And when the time comes that we have to part, you'll just let me go."

He waits a minute, unsure if I'm done. I give him the 'go ahead' with a nod.

"Yes. I know it seems crazy-"

"It is crazy!" I yell at him.

"But I really meant it. I'll help you, Kurt." He seems sincere enough. There's even a hint of pleading in his words. "Come on! I could have killed you when I wanted to. I could still do it now, even without my axes, but I won't." He says, and I shift my feet on top of his weapons that he threw to my feet when he first tried to appeal to me. "So why would I create a fake alliance and get you to trust me just so I could kill you days after I wanted to?"

"I don't know!" I shout. "Maybe you just like playing twisted mind games on your victims."

"I don't!" he shouts, throwing his hands up.

I see no reason to trust this guy. I've doubted everything so far in these games; why stop with him?

"What's in this for you?" I ask skeptically.

"Wha- what?" he asks, taken aback.

"What's in this for you?" I ask, a little slower. "Seriously. Is this some form of charity? Is it supposed to be your way of proving that you still have your humanity? That you're not the same as a common Career?"

"I am not a Career!" he shouts, standing up.

I'm obviously stunned and lean back a little, away from his anger. He must sense this and calms down a bit.

"I just- they are terrible. You've seen them. Am I right?" he says, gesturing to the same spot I couldn't help but glance at. "She was one. That fight you two just got in, she treated it like a joke. Like a _game_. Like the people from District Thirteen are treating it."

"Like we use to treat it." I say quietly. "Did you forget where we're from? The Capital, Karofsky. We're the cause for this endless suffering that no one wants to break the cycle of. We're the cause for the Hunger Games."

"I don't think that's true." He says. "Not everyone in the Capital was like that. Only people like Snow were the cause. Only people who got enjoyment out of it. Even people like the Careers, who are at the receiving end of all this cruelty, are enjoying it. People like that are to blame. Not me. Not you."

I weigh his words. He seems to really mean them. And I believe what he's saying; I shouldn't place the blame of everything on everyone. But does that mean that I can trust him?

Well, after everything that's happened, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. To have someone looking out after me. And maybe he could help me find Blaine.

"If I team up with you," I start, "I want you to help me with something."

"Sure, anything!" he says, smiling a little too eagerly.

"I want you to help me find someone."

"Oh. The guy from 8." He says, a little dejected. "Yeah sure."

I wonder how he knows that I'm looking for Blaine. But I'll have plenty of time to ask him that later. "And that's when I want us to break off the alliance."

"All right. And don't worry, I'll find the guy from 1 too." He says seriously, nodding.

"Why would I care about the guy from 1?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, you don't know?" his face shows sympathy. But for what, I don't understand. "Do you even know what happened to your guy?"

"I know that he was injured." I say, sorrow welling inside me at how damaged Blaine could be and rage flaring up at Sebastian. "Was it Sebastian who did it to him?" Karofsky only nods in response. "What did he do?"

Karofsky pauses, but my patience is almost nonexistent by now. I guess he's trying to find a way to tell me without making me any more angry or sad. Which means what he's trying to tell me cannot be good.

"It was during the Bloodbath." He starts, sighing. "I didn't see much but I saw where he got him."

"Where!" I yell, aggravated at everything. "Stop wasting my time! Stop wasting Blaine's time!" I scream at him, charging over to where he's standing.

I'm completely shocked when Karofsky slaps a hand over my mouth. I indignantly push him away, about to shout something vulgar at him when he shushes me.

"Shut up or you won't be worrying about Blaine anymore. You'll be worrying about yourself and all the Careers you just attracted with your stupid screeching."

"Then just tell me what happened to him!" I whisper-shout at him.

He takes a deep breath, challenging my restraint to hit him for making we wait an extra second.

"Your guy might be blinded by now."

Before I even have time to process the news, another sound erupts in the arena, making me even more scared for Blaine.

BOOM

The cannon.

"Oh God." I sigh, falling to the ground in a heap.

Karofsky registers what this could mean for me. He goes over to his bags and brings them over to me. He reaches in and pulls out a cloth, a bottle, and some bandages, splashing the fabric with water and bringing it to my shoulder wound. It burns at first and I have to grab fistfuls of grass to stay still.

He wraps it up and makes a makeshift sling for me out of his jacket. It's an act of kindness, the most compassion I've received in days.

He stands, shouldering his packs and reaching for mine, but I place my good arm over it. I still don't trust him completely.

He rolls his eyes at me and I narrow mine at him as I shoulder my bag and kick his axes to him. He bends down and grabs them both with one hand.

"Come on." He says, offering me his other hand to help me up. "Each time that cannon fires, it's a second in a countdown to your guy's end." I grab his extended arm, and he pulls me off the ground. He turns and begins walking away, assuming I'll follow, which I do. "And unfortunately for you, every second could be the last one."

Treading after him, no further words are exchanged and we are absorbed into our own thoughts, with the sounds of the forest playing in the background. And I can't help but agree with him.

Quinn

Day 6: Early Night

Have you ever been to a funeral where the people closest to the deceased cannot stop crying? They're so loud and so distraught and so pitiful. And you want to help them, you want to go over and wrap them up in your arms and try to quiet them by saying that everything's alright. But you can't because you don't know them that well, because you know that if you say those words, they'll be a lie, and because the persons crying don't want some strangers arms, they want their loved one's arms.

Or have you ever been the person crying so loud and feeling so distraught and looking so pitiful? You know that this is the last time you'll ever see this person, yet at the same time, you know that this isn't your loved one at all. There's nothing but a shell left. There's no life in them. Therefore, there's no life in you at the moment. You feel no point in living if they're not there beside you. And no one in the world can ever take the place of them. You're split in half. And right then, it seems like no amount of time could ever make you whole again.

Have you ever felt like both of these people at the same time?

The person you want to help is right there in front of you, and you can't bring yourself to touch them. And you look at them and they hardly seem recognizable once they've been drained of what made them them. And you want to say that everything's going to be fine but it will feel like a lie even to you. Because you see no point in going on without them, you see no point in anything. And you know that they don't want you to cry and sit there with them. They want you to go and live without them, but you can't bring yourself to.

Now that Puck's gone, I can't bring myself to do anything but cry. I'm only sitting here sobbing, my hands still covered in his blood. I can't even leave his body.

I still finished stitching him up. I had to close that ghastly wound. He died sometime during it. I got up for two seconds to wipe my hands off on a few leaves nearby. I heard the loud bang and ran back as fast as I could. But it was already way past too late. I should have realized that they would only have fired the cannon when I was away from the body.

I got back in time before the hovercraft came to get him. It must be above us right now, invisible, blending in with the purple sky.

I know I'm doing nothing for myself, or Puck, or Shelby, or Beth by just sitting here blubbering. But I don't care. I don't care about anything, anymore. I know that I'm going to stay right here, right beside him, until I can't cry anymore and drift to sleep.

I stretch out on the grass beside Puck, not even bothering to improvise a pillow, or use his discarded jacket as a blanket. I soundlessly reach over and grab his arm, the one I was so fervently rubbing, and resume stroking it at a slow pace.

The tears still fall, well into the night, and one repetitive thought streams through my head as I wait for the world to turn to black.

_I never remembered what color his eyes were_.

Katniss

Day 6: Late Night

I quickly blink away any oncoming tears for Quinn and Puck. Standing on top of the platform, I can't allow anyone to see me cry. No now, for any reason. I'm tired of watching these children suffer. I'm weak from staying up all night to see how much they do. I'm sick of the emotional relapses these games are making me have. I hate every second of what I'm doing.

"Ms. Everdeen," someone says from behind me. I turn and see some fifty-year-old man, just another Gamemaker, they're all the same to me now. "We have to get the boy's body."

I turn back around and resume looking at the screens. "Yes, I know." I say bitterly, grinding my teeth.

I look at each of the screens that are all from separate cameras on each tribute.

Quinn's already sleeping. She's let go of Puck's arm and has rolled away a bit.

Finn and Rachel are curled up together in a small alcove, looking up at the sky, waiting for the Fallen to show.

Jesse is strung up in a tree, using one of Santana's bags again as a cushion. She sits at the base of the trunk, taking the first watch. I'm glad that she's finally getting a moment of peace, seeing as how they've been doing nothing but exchanging snarky, snide comments all day.

Kurt and Karofsky are still trudging along, but their pace has slowed. They'll settle down for the night soon. I must admit that I'm slightly skeptical of Karofsky's motives, even though he does seem sincere about them. I'll have to pay close attention to him, Kurt's not someone I want to see go just yet.

Sebastian's on a low, sturdy branch in a tree, holding one of his spears and twirling it in his hand. He stares smugly at the stars, anticipating today's deaths.

And Blaine, poor Blaine. He's retreated so far inside a damp cave, trying to get away from all the terror outside. He's curled up in a ball, shivering. He's been surviving on small amounts of berries that grow in clusters around the fissure. His wound is probably the worst I've seen, aside from Peeta's leg that first year.

The year everything changed.

The man still tries talking to me. And I try my best at blocking him out. "Umm, well… do you want-"

"Wait until Quinn's been asleep for at least an hour." says that familiar voice behind me. "Then make sure the operators of the hovercraft are as silent and as stealthy as possible when they lift Noah's body. We don't want to wake her."

"Yes, Mr. Mellark." The man says, and I listen to the click of his heels as he walks away.

But as the sound of his footsteps fade, another sound floats to us.

"Please, you have to give her something. She's just lost her best friend and she may never see her child again." Shelby's desperate attempts of obtaining sponsors can be heard between us on the platform from the hallway outside. "She doesn't need much, please. A slice of bread, a box of matches, anything to give her that extra push."

I can't listen to this much more. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks gently, he comes up beside me and leans on the railing with me. His arm brushing against my own.

"Headache." I say unconvincingly, bringing my hand down and opening my eyes. I don't bother with a smile to try and convince him. He's been able to see through me no matter what I do these days.

"Katniss, get some sleep." He says, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. I want to lean into his touch and set my cheek on top of his hand, but I restrain from it. "I can take over for a night. Please let me."

"No, Peeta." I say, shrugging off his hand.

"Katniss, you need to take a break. These games are only making you feel terrible about yourself."

"Really? Tell me, what effect are they supposed to have on me?"

"Of course they aren't going to make you feel good, but Katniss," he grabs my arm and turns me to look at him. He makes sure we have eye contact before telling me, "You're purposely torturing yourself with this. And it has to _stop_."

"I'm sure it's easy for you to say that to me." I retort. "You have a clean conscious. You voted no to all of this five years ago, while I agreed to it." I pull my arm away and go back to glaring at the screens. "Start the Fallen." I yell across the room. Someone raises the seal into the sky and the anthem begins. I stare at each of the tributes as they see who's died today. Thankfully, Quinn stays asleep, as do Blaine and Jesse. Kurt, of course, is immensely relieved that Blaine wasn't the second cannon, as are Rachel and Finn, that their friends are still alive. Santana shows a flicker of sadness at both Harmony and Puck. Sebastian, however, only widens his smirk. "This was supposed make me feel better. Like revenge or something. This was supposed to be my chance to get back at them for everything they've done." I swallow, pushing back more hopeless wonderings. "Except now…"

"You agree with Karofsky." He finishes my thought. "Not everyone's responsible for the work of their leaders."

"Sure. They can think that while they're justifying themselves. But do you think they believe the same about us? About Thirteen and all the other districts. Do they think this is everyone's work or only Coin's? Or only mine?"

Peeta opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Shelby's voice finds us again.

"Really, she's a fighter. All you have to do is ignite that spark within her, and she'll find her way out."

"I can't listen to this anymore." I've had enough. I have to get away, if only for a few hours. "You're right." I tell Peeta. "There's no use hurting myself with this. You can take over tonight." I say, walking away.

Before I reach the exit of the room, Peeta has caught up with me and grabbed my hand.

"I know of a way to make you feel better." He whispers. I guess he doesn't want to be overheard.

"How?" I ask, not turning to face him.

He walks over to me, still holding my hand, and whispers his suggestion in my ear.

"I can't do that, Peeta." I say in disbelief. "It's against the rules. What if Coin found out?"

"Well, then… I guess I'm all ready in trouble." He says simply, smiling.

My jaw falls slack and I stare at him for a moment. "You didn't?" I whisper.

His grin widens and he grabs both of my hands. "Come on, he should have gotten it by now."

"He?" I question as he leads me down to the screens. "Gotten what?"

We stop in front of the small square filled with the image of Blaine in his cave. The shot immediately widens to show the whole dark space. The faint tinkling of the bells on a parachute are heard and a white shape comes through the opening. Blaine doesn't notice, he's still asleep. But the gift glides in, settles in the dirt beside him and he finally takes notice.

The poor boy can hardly manage to sit up, but he does, and grabs the parachute, setting it in his lap. It's a small package, fitting in both of his hands. The unidentified object is wrapped in white linen with the note tucked in between two folds. Blaine pucks it from its nook and holds it close, reading it. He smiles and a tear rolls down his cheek. Whatever it said, it made him happy. He tucks the piece of paper into his pocket and begins to unwrap the gift. He picks it up and holds it to his nose, smelling it. I can now see it clearly and my heart skips a beat in recognition.

It's a loaf of bread. The very same kind that Peeta threw to me in the rain. The kind with nuts and raisins baked in, adding so much color. Blaine holds it to his chest and I know he's trying to absorb its warmth.

He breaks off a piece and stuffs it into his mouth, gobbling it down. I'm confused though, when he only takes another small bite and wraps it back up, tucking it into his jacket and zipping it to his chin before laying back down with a smile on his face. He has to be hungrier than that.

The cameras don't zoom in on notes, so I lean towards Peeta.

"What did it say?" I ask him quietly, making sure no one is close enough to hear.

"It says 'He's coming. Make it last until he gets there.'" Peeta says, still staring at Blaine on the screen.

I turn and look at the screens too. As my eyes graze over each one with each tribute on them, an idea sparks inside me.

I thought I couldn't help anyone. I was wrong. I can and I will. I may not be able to get everyone out alive, but I'm at least going to help them while they're in the games.

"Thank you." I say to Peeta, kissing his cheek before walking away.

"For what?" he calls after me.

"Just… everything." I sigh, looking back at him before exiting the Gamemakers' room.


End file.
